A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 


The  sea  struck  the  opposite  rail  with  a  roar 


A  Man  to  His  Mate 

h 

J.  ALLAN  DUNN 


AUTHOR  or 

Jim  Morse — Adventurer,  Turquoise  Canyon, 
Dead  Man's  Gold,  etc. 


Illustrated  by 

STOCKTON  MULFORD 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


* 


COPYRIGHT  1920 
THE  FRANK  A.  MUNSEY  COMPANY 

COPYRIGHT  1920 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


pRiaa  OF 

•  RAUNWORTH    It    CO. 

BOOK    MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLYN.    N.    V. 


To 
J.   E.   DERUYTER,  ESQUIRE 

this  yarn  is  affectionately  and 
appreciatively  dedicated 


2135520   ' 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    BLIND  SAMSON 1 

II  A  DIVIDED  COMPANY    ....  25 

III  TARGET  PRACTISE 47 

IV  THE  BOWHEAD 73 

V    RAINEY  SCORES 82 

VI     SANDY  SPEAKS 96 

VII  RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION        .     .  117 

VIII     TAMADA  TALKS 132 

IX  THE  POT  SIMMERS       ....  151 

X     THE  SHOW-DOWN 163 

XI     HONEST  SIMMS 186 

XII  DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       .     .  210 

XIII  THE  RIFLE  CARTRIDGES      .     .      .  230 

XIV  PEGGY  SIMMS 241 

XV     SMOKE 266 

XVI  THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON     ...  277 

XVII     MY  MATE 293 

XVIII  LUND'S  LUCK  332 


A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 


A  Man  to  His  Mate 

CHAPTER  I 

BLIND  SAMSON 

IT  WAS  perfect  weather  along  the  San  Fran- 
cisco water-front,  and  Rainey  reacted  to  the 
brisk  touch  of  the  trade-wind  upon  his  cheek, 
the  breeze  tempering  the  sun,  bringing  with  it 
a  tang  of  the  open  sea  and  a  hint  of  Oriental 
spices  from  the  wharves.  He  whistled  as  he 
went,  watching  a  lumber  coaster  outward 
bound.  The  dull  thump  of  a  heavy  cane  upon 
the  timbered  walk  and  the  shuffle  of  uncertain 
feet  warned  him  from  blundering  into  a  man 
tapping  his  way  along  the  Embarcadero,  a 
giant  who  halted  abruptly  and  faced  him,  lean- 
ing on  the  heavy  stick. 

"Matey,"  asked  the  giant,  "could  you  put  a 
blind  man  in  the  way  of  finding  the  sealin' 

schooner  Karluk?" 

1 


2  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

The  voice  fitted  its  owner,  Rainey  thought 
— a  basso  voice  tempered  to  the  occasion,  a 
deep-sea  voice  that  could  bellow  above  the  roar 
of  a  gale  if  needed.  For  all  his  shoregoing 
clothes  and  shuffle,  the  man  was  certainly  a 
sailor,  or  had  been.  All  the  skin  uncovered  by 
cloth  or  hair  was  weathered  to  leather,  the 
great  hands  curled  in  as  if  they  clutched  an  in- 
visible rope.  He  wore  dark  glasses  with  side 
lenses,  over  which  heavy  brows  projected  in 
shaggy  wisps  of  red  hair. 

Blind  as  the  man  proclaimed  himself  with 
voice  and  action,  Rainey  sensed  something  back 
of  those  colored  glasses  that  seemed  to  be  ap- 
praising him,  almost  as  if  the  will  of  the  man 
was  peering,  or  listening,  focused  through 
those  listless  sockets.  A  kind  of  magnetism, 
not  at  all  attractive,  Rainey  decided,  even  as 
he  offered  help  and  information. 

"You're  not  fifty  yards  from  the  Karluk," 
Rainey  replied.  "But  you're  bound  in  the 
wrong  direction.  Let  me  put  you  right.  I'm 
going  that  way  myself." 


BLIND  SAMSON  3 

"That's  kind  of  ye,  matey,"  said  the  other. 
"But  I  picked  ye  for  that  sort,  hearin'  you 
whistlin'  as  you  came  swingin'  along.  Light- 
hearted,  I  thinks,  an'  young,  most  likely;  he'll 
help  a  stranded  man.  Give  me  the  touch  of 
yore  arm,  matey,  an'  I'll  stow  this  spar  of 
mine." 

He  swung  about,  slinging  the  curving  handle 
of  the  stick  over  his  right  elbow  as  the  fingers 
of  his  left  hand  placed  themselves  on  Rainey's 
proffered  arm.  Strong  fingers,  almost  vibrant 
with  a  force  manifest  through  serge  and  linen. 
Fingers  that  could  grip  like  steel  upon  occasion. 

Rainey  wonderingly  sized  up  his  consort. 
The  stranger's  bulk  was  enormous.  Rainey 
was  well  over  the  average  himself,  but  he  was 
only  a  stripling  beside  this  hulk,  this  stranded 
hulk,  of  manhood.  And,  for  all  the  spectacled 
eyes  and  shuffling  feet,  there  was  a  stamp  of 
coordinated  strength  about  the  giant  that  be- 
spoke the  blind  Samson.  Given  eyes,  Rainey 
could  imagine  him  agile  as  a  panther,  strong  as 
a  bear. 


4  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

His  weight  was  made  up  of  thews  and  sin- 
ews, spare  and  solid  flesh  without  an  ounce  of 
waste,  upon  a  mighty  skeleton.  His  face  was 
heavy-bearded  in  hair  of  flaming,  curling  red, 
from  high  cheek-bones  down  out  of  sight  below 
the  soft  loose  collar  of  his  shirt.  The  bridge 
of  his  glasses  rested  on  the  outcurve  of  a  nose 
like  the  beak  of  an  osprey,  the  ends  of  the 
wires  looped  about  ears  that  lay  close  to  the 
head,  hairy  about  the  inner-curves,  lobeless, 
the  tips  suggesting  the  ear-tips  of  a  satyr. 

Mouth  and  jaw  were  hidden,  but  the  beard 
could  not  deny  the  bold  projection  of  the  latter. 
About  thirty,  Rainey  judged  him.  Buffeted  by 
time  and  weather,  but  in  the  prime  of  his 
strength. 

"Snow-blinded,  matey,"  said  the  man. 
"North  o'  Point  Barrow,  a'  year  an'  more  ago. 
Brought  me  up  all  standin'.  What  are  you? 
Steamer  man  ?  Purser,  maybe  ?" 

"Newspaperman,"  answered  Rainey.  "Wa- 
ter-front detail.  For  the  Times." 

"You  don't  say  so,  matey?    A  writer,  eh?" 


BLIND  SAMSON  5 

Again  Rainey  felt  the  tug  of  that  something 
back  of  the  dark  lenses,  some  speculation  go- 
ing on  in  the  man's  mind  concerning  him.  And 
he  felt  the  firm  fingers  contract  ever  so 
slightly,  sinking  into  the  muscles  of  his  fore- 
arm for  a  second  with  a  hint  of  how  they  could 
bruise  and  paralyze  at  will.  Once  more  a  faint 
sense  of  revulsion  fought  with  his  natural  in- 
clination to  aid  the  handicapped  mariner,  and 
he  shook  it  off. 

"The  Karluk  sails  to-morrow,"  he  said. 

"Aye,  so — so  they  told  me,  matey.  You've 
bin  aboard?" 

"I  had  a  short  talk  with  Captain  Simms 
when  she  docked.  Not  much  of  a  yarn.  She 
didn't  have  a  good  trip,  you  know." 

"Why,  I  didn't  know.  But— hold  hard  a 
minnit,  will  ye?  You  see,  Simms  is  an  old 
shipmate  of  mine.  He  don't  dream  I'm  within 
a  hundred  miles  o'  here.  Aye,  or  a  thousand." 
He  gave  a  deep-chested  chuckle.  "Now,  then, 
matey,  look  here." 

Rainey  was  anchored  by  the  compelling  grip. 


6  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

They  stood  next  to  the  slip  in  which  the  sealer 
lay.  The  Karluk's  decks  were  deserted,  though 
there  was  smoke  coming  from  the  galley  stove- 
pipe. 

"Simms  is  likely  to  be  aboard,"  went  on  the 
other.  "Ye  see,  I  know  his  ways.  An'  I've 
come  a  long  trip  to  see  him.  Nigh  missed  him. 
Only  got  in  from  Seattle  this  mornin'.  He 
ain't  expectin'  me,  an'  it's  in  my  mind  to  sur- 
prise him.  By  way  of  a  joke.  I  don't  want  to 
be  announced,  ye  see.  Just  drop  in  on  him. 
How's  the  deck?  Clear?" 

"No  one  in  sight,"  said  Rainey. 

"Fine!  Mates  an'  crew  down  the  Barb'ry 
Coast,  I  reckon.  Sealers  have  liberties  last 
shore-day.  Like  whalers.  I've  buried  a  few 
irons  myself,  matey,  but  I'll  never  sight  the 
vapor  of  a  right  whale-  ag'in.  Stranded,  I  am. 
So  you'll  do  me  a  favor,  matey,  an'  pilot  me 
down  into  the  cabin,  if  so  be  the  skipper's  there. 
If  he  ain't,  I'll  wait  for  him.  I've  got  the 
right  an'  run  o'  the  Karluk's  cabin.  I  know 


BLIND  SAMSON  7 

ev'ry  inch  of  her.  You'll  see  when  we  go 
aboard.  Let's  go." 

Rainey  led  him  down  the  gangway  to  the 
deck  of  the  sealer,  still  cluttered  a  bit  with  un- 
stowed  gear.  Once  on  board,  the  blind  man 
seemed  to  walk  with  assurance,  guiding  him- 
self with  touches  here  and  there  that  showed 
his  familiarity  with  the  vessel's  rig.  And  he 
no  longer  shuffled,  but  walked  lightly,  grinning 
at  Rainey  through  his  beard,  with  one  blunt 
forefinger  set  to  his  mouth  as  he  approached 
the  cabin  skylight,  lifted  on  the  port  side. 
Through  it  came  the  murmur  of  voices.  The 
blind  man  nodded  in  satisfaction  and  widened 
his  grin  with  a  warning  "hush-h"  to  his  guide. 

"We'll  fool  'em  proper,"  he  lipped  rather 
than  uttered. 

The  companion  doors  were  closed,  but  they 
opened  noiselessly.  The  stairs  were  carpeted 
with  corrugated  rubber  that  muffled  all  sound. 
Two  men  sat  at  the  cabin  table,  leaning  for- 
ward, hands  and  forearms  outstretched,  finger- 


8  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

ing  something.  One  Rainey  recognized  as  the 
captain,  Simms — a  heavy,  square-built  man, 
gray-haired,  clean-shaven,  his  flesh  tanned,  yet 
somehow  unhealthy,  as  if  the  bronze  was  close 
to  tarnishing.  There  were  deep  puffs  under 
the  gray  tired  eyes. 

The  other  was  younger,  fall,  nervously  ac- 
tive, with  dark  eyes  and  a  dark  mustache  and 
beard,  the  latter  trimmed  to  a  Vandyke.  Be- 
tween them  was  a  long  slim  sack  of  leather,  a 
miner's  poke.  It  was  half  full  of  something 
that  stuffed  its  lower  extremity  solid,  without 
doubt  the  same  substance  that  glistened  in  the 
mouth  of  the  sack  and  the  palms  of  the  two 
men — gold — coarse  dust  of  gold ! 

Rainey  felt  himself  thrust  to  one  side  as  the 
blind  man  straddled  across  the  bottom  of  the 
companionway,  towering  in  the  cabin  while 
he  thrust  his  stick  with  a  thump  on  the  floor 
and  thundered,  in  a  bellow  that  seemed  to  fill 
the  place  and  come  tumbling  back  in  deafening 
echo: 

"Karluk  ahoy!" 


BLIND  SAMSON  9 

The  face  of  Captain  Simms  paled,  the  tan 
turned  to  a  sickly  gray,  and  his  jaw  dropped. 
Rainey  saw  fear  come  into  his  eyes.  His  com- 
panion did  not  stir  a  muscle  except  for  the 
quick  shift  of  his  glance,  but  went  on  sitting  at 
the  table,  the  gold  in  one  palm,  the  fingers  of 
his  other  hand  resting  on  the  grains. 

"Jim  Lund!"  gasped  the  captain  hoarsely. 

"That's  me,  you  skulking  sculpin?  Thought 
I  was  bear  meat  by  this,  didn't  you,  blast  yore 
rotten  soul  to  hell !  But  I'm  back,  Bill  Simms. 
Back,  an'  this  time  you  don't  slip  me !" 

Jim  Lund's  face  was  purple-red  with  rage, 
great  veins  standing  out  upon  it  so  swollen 
that  it  seemed  they  must  surely  burst  and  dis- 
charge their  congested  contents.  Out  of  the 
purpling  flesh  his  scarlet  hair  curled  in  diabol- 
ical effect.  His  teeth  gleamed  through  his 
beard,  strong,  yellow,  far  apart.  He  looked, 
Rainey  thought,  like  a  blind  Berserker,  re- 
strained only  by  his  affliction. 

"You  left  me  blind  on  the  floe,  Bill  Simms !" 
he  roared.  "Blind,  in  a  drivin'  blizzard  with 


10  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

the  ice  breakin'  up!  If  I  didn't  have  use  for 
yore  carcass  I'd  twist  yore  head  from  yore 
scaly  body  like  I'd  pull  up  a  carrot." 

Lund's  fingers  opened  and  closed  convul- 
sively. Before  Rainey  the  vision  of  the  threat- 
ened crime  rose  clear. 

"I  looked  for  you,  Jim,"  pleaded  the  captain, 
and  to  Rainey  his  words  lacked  conviction.  "I 
didn't  know  you  were  blind.  I  heard  you 
shout  just  before  the  blizzard  broke  loose." 

Lund  answered  with  an  inarticulate  roar. 

"And  there's  others  present,  Jim.  I  can  ex- 
plain it  to  you  when  we're  by  ourselves.  When 
you're  a  mite  calmer,  Jim." 

Lund  banged  his  stick  down  on  the  table 
with  a  smashing  blow  that  made  the  man  with 
the  Vandyke  beard,  still  silent,  keenly  observ- 
ant, draw  back  his  arm  with  a  catlike  swiftness 
that  only  just  evaded  the  stroke.  The  heavy 
wood  landed  fairly  on  the  filled  half  of  the 
poke  and  caused  some  of  the  gold  to  leap  out 
of  the  mouth. 

"What's  that  I  hit?"  asked  Lund.     "Soft, 


r  l 


'What's   that   I   hit?"   asked   Lund 


BLIND  SAMSON  11 

like  a  rat."  He  lunged  forward,  felt  for  the 
poke,  and  found  it,  lifted  it,  hefted  it,  his  fore- 
head puckered  with  deep  seams,  discovered  the 
open  end,  poured  out  some  of  the  colors  on  one 
palm,  and  used  that  for  a  mortar,  grinding  at 
the  grains  with  his  finger  for  a  pestle,  still 
weighing  the  stuff  with  a  slight  up-and-down 
movement  of  his  hand. 

He  nodded  as  he  slipped  the  poke  into  a  side 
pocket,  and  the  cabin  grew  very  silent.  Lund's 
face  was  grimly  terrible.  Rainey  could  have 
gone  when  the  blind  man  reached  for  the  gold 
and  left  the  ladder  clear.  He  had  meant  to  go 
at  the  first  opportunity,  but  now  he  was  held 
fascinated  by  what  was  about  to  happen,  and 
Lund  stepped  back  across  the  companionway. 

"So,"  said  Lund,  his  deep  voice  muffled  by 
some  swift  restraint.  "You  found  it.  And 
yo're  going  back  after  more?"  His  forehead 
was  still  creased  with  puzzlement.  "Wai,  I'm 
going  with  ye,  eyes  or  no  eyes,  an'  I'll  keep 
tabs  on  ye,  Bill  Simms,  by  day  and  night.  You 
can  lay  to  that,  you  slimy-hearted  swab!" 


12  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

His  voice  had  risen  again.  Rainey  saw  the 
sweat  standing  out  on  the  captain's  forehead 
as  he  answered : 

"Of  course  you'll  come,  Jim.  No  need  for 
you  to  talk  this  way." 

"No  need  to  talk !  By  the  eternal,  what  I've 
got  to  say's  bin  steamin'  in  me  for  fourteen 
months  o'  blackness,  an'  it's  comin'  out,  now 
it's  started !  Who's  this  man,  who  was  talkin' 
with  ye  when  I  come  aboard?" 

He  wheeled  directly  toward  the  man  with 
the  Vandyke,  who  still  sat  motionless,  appar- 
ently calm,  looking  on  as  if  at  a  play  that  might 
turn  out  to  be  either  comedy  or  tragedy. 

"That's  Doctor  Carlsen.  He's  to  be  sur- 
geon this  trip,  Jim,"  said  Simms  deprecatingly, 
though  he  darted  a  look  at  Rainey  half  sus- 
picious, half  resentful. 

Rainey,  on  the  hint,  turned  toward  the 
ladder  quietly  enough,  but  Lund  had  nipped 
him  by  the  biceps  before  Rainey  had  taken  a 
step. 

"You'll  stay  right  here,"  said  Lund,  "while 


BLIND  SAMSON  13 

I  tell  you  an'  this  Doc  Carlsen  what  kind  of  a 
man  Simms  is,  with  his  poke  full  of  gold  and 
me  with  the  price  of  my  last  meal  spent  two 
hours  ago.  I  won't  spin  out  the  yarn. 

"I  rescued  an  Aleut  off  a  bit  of  a  berg  one 
time.  There  warn't  much  of  him  left  to  rescue. 
Hands  an'  feet  an'  nose  was  frozen  so  he  lost 
'em,  but  the  pore  devil  was  grateful,  an'  he  told 
me  something.  Told  about  an  island  north  of 
Bering  Strait,  west  of  Kotzebue  Sound,  where 
there  was  gold  on  the  beach  richer  and  thicker 
than  it  ever  lay  at  Nome.  I  makes  for  it,  gits 
close  enough  for  my  Aleut  to  recognize  it — it 
ain't  an  easy  place  to  forget  for  one  who  has 
eyes — an'  then  we're  blown  south,  an'  we  git 
into  ice  an*  trouble.  The  Aleut  dies,  an'  I  lose 
my  ship.  But  I  was  close  enough  to  get  the 
reckonin'  of  that  island. 

"Finally  I  land  at  Seattle,  broke.  I  meet  up 
with  the  man  they  call  Hardluck  Simms.  Also 
they  called  him  Honest  Simms  those  days. 
Some  said  his  honesty  accounted  for  his  hard 
luck.  I  like  him,  an'  I  finally  tell  him  about  my 


14  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

island.  I  put  up  the  reckoning  an'  he  supplies 
the  Karluk,  grub,  an'  crew. 

"Simms'  luck  is  still  ag'in'  him.  The  Kar- 
luk gits  into  ice,  gits  nipped  an'  carried  north, 
'way  north,  with  wind  an'  current,  frozen  tight 
in  a  floe.  It  looks  like  we've  got  to  winter 
there.  Mind  ye,  I've  given  Honest  Simms  the 
reckonin'  of  the  island.  We  go  out  on  the  ice 
after  bear,  though  the  weather's  threatening 
for  we're  short  of  meat.  An'  we  kill  a  Kadiak 
bear.  Me — I'll  never  stand  for  the  shootin'  of 
another  bear  if  I  can  stop  it. 

"I've  bin  havin'  trouble  with  my  eyes.  Right 
along.  I'm  on  the  floe  not  eighty  yards  from 
Simms.  No,  not  sixty !  It  was  me  killed  the 
bear,  an'  we're  goin'  back  to  the  schooner  for 
a  sled.  I  stayed  behind  to  bleed  the  brute.  All 
of  a  sudden,  like  it  always  hits  you,  snow- 
blindness  gits  me,  an'  I  shouts  to  Honest 
Simms.  I'm  blind,  with  my  eyeballs  on  fire, 
an'  the  fire  burnin'  back  inter  my  brain. 

"Along  comes  a  Point  Arrow  blister.  That's 
a  gale  that  breeds  an'  bursts  of  a  second  out  of 


BLIND  SAMSON  15 

nowhere.  It  gathers  up  all  the  loose  snow  an' 
ice  crystals  an'  drives  'em  in  a  whirlwind. 
Presently  the  wind  starts  the  ice  to  buckin'  an' 
tremblin'  like  a  jelly  under  you,  splitting  inter 
lanes.  You  lose  yore  direction  even  when  you 
got  eyes.  I'm  left  in  it  by  that  bilge-blooded 
skunk,  blind  on  the  rockin',  breakin'  floe,  while 
he  scuds  back  to  the  schooner  with  his  men. 
That's  Honest  Simms !  Jim  Lund's  left  behind 
bufr  Honest  Simms  has  the  position  of  the 
island." 

"I  didn't  hear  you  call  out  you  were  blind, 
Lund.  The  wind  blew  your  words  away.  I 
didn't  know  but  what  you  were  as  right  as  the 
rest  of  us.  The  gale  shut  us  all  out  from  each 
other.  We  found  the  schooner  by  sheer  luck 
before  we  perished.  We  looked  for  you — but 
the  floe  was  broken  up.  We  looked — " 

"Shut  up!"  bellowed  Lund.  "You  sailed  in- 
side of  twenty- four  hours,  Honest  Simms.  The 
natives  told  me  so  later,  when  I  could  under- 
stand talk  ag'in.  D'ye  know  what  saved  me? 
The  bear!  I  stumbled  over  the  carcass  when 


16  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

I  was  nigh  spent.  I  ripped  it  up  and  clawed 
some  of  the  warm  guts,  an'  climbed  inside  the 
bloody  body  an'  stayed  there  till  it  got  cold  an' 
clamped  down  over  me.  Waitin'  for  you  to 
come  an'  git  me,  Honest  Simms ! 

"That  bear  was  bed  and  board  to  me  until 
the  natives  found  it,  an'  me  in  it,  more  dead 
than  alive.  Never  mind  the  rest.  I  get  here  the 
day  before  you  start  back  for  more  gold. 

"An'  I'm  goin'  with  you.  But  first  I'm  goin' 
to  have  a  full  an'  fair  accountin'  o'  what  you 
got  already.  I've  got  this  young  chap  with  me, 
an'  he'll  give  me  a  hand  to'ard  a  square  deal." 

Lund  propelled  Rainey  forward  a  few  steps 
and  then  loosened  his  grip.  The  captain  of 
the  Karluk  appealed  to  him  directly. 

"You're  with  the  Times"  he  said.  All 
through  the  talk  Rainey  was  conscious  of  the 
gaze  of  Doctor  Carlsen,  whose  dark  eyes  ap- 
peared to  be  mocking  the  whole  proceedings, 
looking  on  with  the  air  of  a  man  watching 
card-play  with  a  prevision  of  how  the  game 
will  come  out . 


BLIND  SAMSON  17 

"Mr.  Lund  is  unstrung,"  said  the  captain. 
"He  is  under  the  delusion  that  we  deliberately 
deserted  him  and,  later,  found  the  gold  he 
speaks  of.  The  first  charge  is  nonsense.  We 
did  all  that  was  possible  in  the  frightful 
weather.  We  barely  saved  the  ship. 

"As  for  the  gold,  we  touched  on  the  island, 
and  we  did  some  prospecting,  a  very  little,  be- 
fore we  were  driven  offshore.  The  dust  in  the 
poke  is  all  we  secured.  We  are  going  back  for 
more,  quite  naturally.  I  can  prove  all  this  to 
you  by  the  log.  It  is  manifestly  not  doctored, 
for  \ve  imagined  Mr.  Lund  dead.  If  we  had 
been  able  to  work  the  beach  thoroughly,  noth- 
ing would  tempt  me  into  going  back  again  to 
add  to  even  a  moderate  fortune." 

Lund  had  been  standing  with  his  great  head 
thrust  forward  as  if  concentrating  all  his  re- 
maining senses  in  an  attempt  to  judge  the  cap- 
tain's talk.  The  doctor  sat  with  one  leg  crossed, 
smoking  a  cigarette,  his  expression  sardonic, 
sphinxlike.  To  Rainey,  a  little  bewildered  at 
being  dragged  into  the  affair,  and  annoyed  at 


18  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

it,  Captain  Simms'  words  rang  true  enough. 
He  did  not  know  what  to  say,  whether  to  speak 
at  all.  Lund  supplied  the  gap. 

"If  that  ain't  the  truth,  you  lie  well,  Simms," 
he  said.  "But  I  don't  trust  ye.  You  lie  when 
you  say  you  didn't  hear  me  call  out  I  was  blind. 
Sixty  yards  away,  I  was,  an'  the  wind  hadn't 
started.  I  was  afraid — yes,  afraid — an'  I 
yelled  at  the  top  of  my  lungs.  An'  you  sailed 
off  inside  of  twenty- four  hours." 

"Driven  off." 

"I  don't  believe  ye.  You  deserted  me — left 
me  blind,  tucked  in  the  bloody,  f  reezin'  carcass 
of  a  bear.  Left  me  like  the  cur  you  are.  Why, 
you—" 

The  rising  frenzy  of  Lund's  voice  was  sud- 
denly broken  by  the  clear  note  of  a  girl's  voice. 
One  of  two  doors  in  the  after-end  of  the  main 
cabin  had  opened,  and  she  stood  in  the  gap, 
slim,  yellow-haired,  with  gray  eyes  that  blazed 
as  they  looked  on  the  little  tableau. 

"Who  says  my  father  is  a  cur?"  she  de- 
manded. "You?"  And  she  faced  Lund  with 


BLIND  SAMSON  19 

such  intrepid  challenge  in  her  voice,  such  sting- 
ing contempt,  that  the  giant  was  silenced. 

"I  was  dressing,"  she  said,  "or  I  would  have 
come  out  before.  If  you  say  my  father  de- 
serted you,  you  lie !" 

Captain  Simms  turned  to  her.  Doctor  Carl- 
sen  had  risen  and  moved  toward  her.  Rainey 
wished  he  was  on  the  dock.  Here  was  a  story 
breaking  that  was  a  saga  of  the  North.  He 
did  not  want  to  use  it,  somehow.  The  girl's 
entrance,  her  vivid,  sudden  personality  forbade 
that.  He  felt  an  intruder  as  her  eyes  regarded 
him,  standing  by  Lund's  side  in  apparent  sym- 
pathy with  him,  arrayed  against  her  father. 
And  yet  he  was  not  certain  that  Lund  had  not 
been  betrayed.  The  remembrance  of  the  first 
look  in  the  captain's  face  when  he  had  glanced 
up  from  handling  the  gold  and  seen  Lund  was 
too  keen. 

"Go  into  your  cabin,  Peggy,"  said  the  cap- 
tain. "This  is  no  place  for  you.  I  can  handle 
the  matter.  Lund  has  cause  for  excitement ; 
but  I  can  satisfy  him." 


20  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Lund  stood  frozen,  like  a  pointer  on  scent, 
all  his  faculties  united  in  attention  toward  the 
girl.  To  Rainey  he  seemed  attempting  to  vis- 
ualize her  by  sheer  sense  of  hearing,  by  percep- 
tions quickened  in  the  blind.  The  doctor  crossed 
to  the  girl  and  spoke  to  her  in  a  low  voice. 

Lund  spoke,  and  his  voice  was  suddenly 
mild. 

"I  didn't  know  there  was  a  lady  present, 
miss,"  he  said.  "Yore  father's  right.  You  let 
us  settle  this.  We'll  come  to  an  agreement." 

But,  for  all  his  swift  change  to  placability, 
there  was  a  sinister  undertone  to  his  voice  that 
the  girl  seemed  to  recognize.  She  hesitated 
until  her  father  led  her  back  into  the  cabin. 

"You  two'll  sit  down?"  said  the  doctor, 
speaking  aloud  for  the  first  time,  his  voice  ami- 
able, carefully  neutral.  "And  we'll  have  a  drop 
of  something.  Mr.  Lund,  I  can  understand 
your  attitude.  You've  suffered  a  great  deal.* 
But  you  have  misunderstood  Captain  Simms. 
I  have  heard  about  this  from  him,  before.  He 
has  no  desire  to  cheat  you.  He  is  rejoiced  to 


BLIND  SAMSON  21 

see  you  alive,  though  afflicted.  He  is  still 
Honest  Simms,  Mr.  Lund. 

"I  haven't  your  name,  sir,"  he  went  on  pleas- 
antly, to  Rainey.  "The  captain  said  you  were 
a  newspaperman?" 

"John  Rainey,  of  the  Times.  I  knew  noth- 
ing of  this  before  I  came  aboard." 

"And  you  will  understand,  of  course,  what 
Mr.  Lund  overlooked  in  his  natural  agitation, 
that  this  is  not  a  story  for  your  paper.  We 
should  have  a  fleet  trailing  us.  We  must  ask 
your  confidence,  Mr.  Rainey." 

There  was  a  strong  personality  in  the  doctor, 
Rainey  realized.  Not  the  blustering,  driving 
force  of  Lund,  but  a  will  that  was  persistent, 
powerful.  He  did  not  like  the  man  from  first 
appearances.  He  was  too  aloof,  too  sardonic 
in  his  attitudes.  But  his  manner  was  friendly 
enough,  his  voice  compelling  in  its  suggestion 
that  Rainey  was  a  man  to  be  trusted.  Captain 
Simms  came  back  into  the  cabin,  closing  the 
door  of  his  daughter's  room. 

"We  are  going  to  have  a  little  3rinlc  to- 


22  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

gether,"  said  the  doctor.  "I  have  some  Scotch 
in  my  cabin.  If  you'll  excuse  me  for  a  mo- 
ment ?  Captain,  will  you  get  some  glasses,  and 
a  chair  for  Mr.  Lund  ?" 

The  captain  looked  at  Rainey  a  little  uncer- 
tainly, and  then  at  Lund,  whose  aggressiveness 
seemed  to  have  entirely  departed.  It  was 
Rainey  who  got  the  chair  for  the  latter  and 
seated  himself.  He  would  join  in  a  friendly 
drink  and  then  be  well  shut  of  the  matter,  he 
told  himself. 

And  he  would  promise  not  to  print  the  story, 
or  talk  of  it.  That  was  rotten  newspaper  craft, 
he  supposed,  but  he  was  not  a  first-class  man, 
in  that  sense.  He  let  his  own  ethics  interfere 
sometimes  with  his  pen  and  what  the  paper 
would  deem  its  best  interests.  And  this  was  a 
whale  of  a  yarn. 

But  it  was  true  that  its  printing  would  mean 
interference  with  the  Karluk's  expedition.  And 
there  was  the  girl.  Rainey  was  not  going  to 
forget  the  girl.  If  the  Karluk  ever  came  back  ? 
But  then  she  would  be  an  heiress. 


BLIND  SAMSON  23 

Rainey  pulled  himself  up  for  a  fool  at  the 
way  his  thoughts  were  racing  as  the  doctor 
came  back  with  a  bottle  of  Scotch  whisky  and 
a  siphon.  The  captain  had  set  out  glasses  and 
a  pitcher  of  plain  water  from  a  rack. 

"I  imagine  you'll  be  the  only  one  who'll  take 
seltzer,  Mr.  Rainey,"  said  the  doctor  pleas- 
antly, passing  the  bottle.  "Captain  Simms,  I 
know,  uses  plain  water.  Siphons  are  scarce  at 
sea.  I  suppose  Mr.  Lund  does  the  same.  And 
I  prefer  a  still  drink." 

"Plain  water  for  mine,"  said  Lund. 

"We're  all  charged,"  said  the  doctor. 
"Here's  to  a  better  understanding!" 

"Glad  to  see  you  aboard,  Mr.  Rainey,"  said 
the  captain. 

Lund  merely  grunted. 

Rainey  took  a  long  pull  at  his  glass.  The 
cabin  was  hot,  and  he  was  thirsty.  The  seltzer 
tasted  a  little  flat — or  the  whisky  was  of  an  un- 
usual brand,  he  fancied.  And  then  inertia  sud- 
denly seized  him.  He  lost  the  use  of  his  limbs, 
of  his  tongue,  when  he  tried  to  call  out.  He 


24  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

saw  the  doctor's  sardonic  eyes  watching  him 
as  he  strove  to  shake  off  a  lethargy  that  swiftly 
merged  into  dizziness. 

Dimly  he  heard  the  scrape  of  the  captain's 
chair  being  pushed  back.  From  far  off  he 
heard  Lund's  big  voice  booming,  "Here,  what's 
this?"  and  the  doctor's  cutting  in,  low  and 
eager;  then  he  collapsed,  his  head  falling  for- 
ward on  his  outstretched  arms. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  DIVIDED  COMPANY 

IT  WAS  not  the  first  time  that  Rainey  had 
been  on  a  ship,  a  sailing  ship,  and  at  sea. 
Whenever  possible  his  play-hours  had  been 
spent  on  a  little  knockabout  sloop  that  he 
owned  jointly  with  another  man,  both  of  them 
members  of  the  Corinthian  Club.  While  the 
Curlew  had  made  no  blue-water  voyages,  they 
had  sailed  her  more  than  once  up  and  down  the 
California  coast  on  offshore  regattas  and  pleas- 
ure-trips, and,  lacking  experience  in  actual 
navigation,  Rainey  was  a  pretty  handy  sailor- 
man  for  an  amateur. 

So,  as  he  came  out  of  the  grip  of  the  drug 
that  had  been  given  him,  slowly,  with  a  brain- 
pan that  seemed  overstuffed  with  cotton  and 
which  throbbed  with  a  dull  persistent  ache — 
with  a  throat  that  seemed  to  be  coated  with 
25 


26  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

ashes,  strangely  contracted — a  nauseated  stom- 
ach— eyes  that  saw  things  through  a  haze — 
limbs  that  ached  as  if  bruised — the  sounds  that 
beat  their  way  through  his  sluggish  conscious- 
ness were  familiar  enough  to  place  him  almost 
instantly  and  aid  his  memory's  flickering  film 
to  reel  off  what  had  happened. 

As  he  lay  there  in  a  narrow  bunk,  watch- 
ing the  play  of  light  that  came  through  a  port- 
hole beyond  his  line  of  vision,  noting  in  this 
erratic  shuttling  of  reflected  sunlight  the  roll 
and  pitch  of  cabin  walls,  listening  to  the  low 
boom  of  waves  followed  by  the  swash  along- 
side that  told  him  the  Karluk  was  bucking 
heavy  seas,  a  slow  rage  mastered  him,  centered 
against  the  doctor  with  the  sardonic  smile  and 
Captain  Simms,  who  Rainey  felt  sure  had 
tacitly  approved  of  the  doctor's  actions. 

He  remembered  Lund's  exclamation  of, 
"Here,  what's  this?" — the  question  of  a  blind 
man  who  could  not  grasp  what  was  happening 
— and  acquitted  him. 

They  had  deliberately  kidnapped  him,  shang- 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  27 

haied  him,  because  they  did  not  choose  to  trust 
him,  because  they  thought  he  might  print  the 
story  of  the  island  treasure  beach  in  his  paper, 
or  babble  of  it  and  start  a  rush  to  the  new  strike 
of  which  he  had  seen  proof  in  the  gold  dust 
streaming  from  the  poke. 

He  had  been  willing  to  suppress  the  yarn, 
Rainey  reflected  bitterly,  his  intentions  had 
been  fair  and  square  in  this  situation  forced 
upon  him,  and  they  had  not  trusted  him.  They 
were  taking  no  chances,  he  thought,  and  sud- 
denly wondered  what  position  the  girl  would 
take  in  the  matter.  He  could  not  think  of  her 
approving  it.  Yet  she  would  naturally  side 
with  her  father,  as  she  had  done  against  Lund's 
accusations.  And  Rainey  suspected  that  there 
was  something  back  of  Lund's  charge  of  deser- 
tion. The  girl's  face,  her  graceful  figure,  the 
tones  of  her  voice,  clung  in  his  still  palsied 
recollection  a  long  time  before  he  could  dismiss 
it  and  get  round  to  the  main  factor  of  his  im- 
prisonment— what  were  they  going  to  do  with 
him? 


28  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

There  was  a  fortune  in  sight.  For  gold,  men 
forget  the  obligations  of  life  and  law  in  civili- 
zation; they  revert  to  savage  type,  and  their 
minds  and  actions  are  swayed  by  the  primitive 
urge  of  lust.  Treachery,  selfishness,  cruelty, 
crime  breed  from  the  shining  particles  even  be- 
fore they  are  in  actual  sight  and  touch. 

Rainey  knew  that.  He  had  read  many  true 
yarns  that  had  come  down  from  the  frozen 
North,  in  from  the  deserts  and  the  mountains, 
tales  of  the  mining  records  of  the  West. 

He  mistrusted  the  doctor.  The  man  had 
drugged  him.  He  was  a  man  whose  profes- 
sion, where  the  mind  was  warped,  belittled  life. 
Captain  Simms  had  been  charged  with  leaving 
a  blind  man  on  a  broken  floe.  Lund  was  the 
type  whose  passions  left  him  ruthless.  The 
crew — they  would  be  bound  by  shares  in  the 
enterprise,  a  rough  lot,  daring  much  and  caring 
little  for  anything  beyond  their  own  narrow 
horizons.  The  girl  was  the  only  redeeming 
feature  of  the  situation. 

Was  it  because  of  her — it  might  be  because 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  29 

of  her  special  pleading — that  they  had  not  gone 
further?  Or  were  they  still  fighting  through 
the  heads,  waiting  until  they  got  well  out  to 
sea  before  they  disposed  of  him,  so  there  would 
be  no  chance  of  his  telltale  body  washing  up 
along  the  coast  for  recognition  and  search  for 
clues?  He  wondered  whether  any  one  had 
seen  him  go  aboard  the  Karluk  with  Lund — 
any  one  who  would  remember  it  and  mention 
the  circumstance  when  he  was  found  to  be 
missing. 

That  might  take  a  day  or  two.  At  the  office 
they  would  wonder  why  he  didn't  show  up  to 
cover  his  detail,  because  he  had  been  steady  in 
his  work.  But  they  would  not  suspect  foul 
play  at  first.  He  had  no  immediate  family. 
His  landlady  lodged  other  newspapermen,  and 
was  used  to  their  vagaries.  And  all  this  time 
the  Karluk  would  be  thrashing  north,  well  out 
to  sea,  unsighted,  perhaps,  for  all  her  trip, 
along  that  coast  of  fogs. 

Rainey  had  disappeared,  dropped  out  of 
sight.  He  would  be  a  front-page  wonder  for 


30  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

a  day,  then  drop  to  paragraphs  for  a  day  or  so 
more,  and  that  would  be  the  end  of  it. 

But  they  had  made  him  comfortable.  He 
was  not  in  a  smelly  forecastle,  but  in  a  bunk  in 
a  cabin  that  must  open  off  the  main  room  of  the 
schooner.  Why  had  they  treated  him  with 
such  consideration?  He  dozed  off,  for  all  his 
wretchedness,  exhausted  by  his  efforts  to  un- 
tangle the  snarl.  When  he  awoke  again  his 
mouth  was  glued  together  with  thirst. 

The  schooner  was  still  fighting  the  sea — the 
wind,  too,  Rainey  fancied — sailing  close- 
hauled,  going  north  against  the  trade.  He 
fumbled  for  his  watch.  It  had  run  down.  His 
head  ached  intolerably.  Each  hair  seemed  set 
in  a  nerve  center  of  pain.  But  he  was  better. 

Back  of  his  thirst  lay  hunger  now,  and  the 
apathy  that  had  held  him  to  idle  thinking  had 
given  way  to  an  energy  that  urged  him  to 
action  and  discovery. 

As  he  sat  up  in  his  bunk,  fully  clothed  as  he 
had  come  aboard,  the  door  of  his  cabin  opened 
and  the  doctor  appeared,  nodded  coolly  as  he 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  31 

saw  Rainey  moving,  disappeared  for  an  in- 
stant, and  brought  in  a  draft  of  some  sort  in  a 
long  glass. 

"Take  this,"  said  Carlsen.  "Pull  you  to- 
gether. Then  we'll  get  some  food  into  you." 

The  calm  insolence  of  the  doctor's  manner, 
ignoring  all  that  had  happened,  seemed  to  send 
all  the  blood  in  Rainey's  body  fuming  to  his 
brain.  He  took  the  glass  and  hurled  its  con- 
tents at  Carlsen's  face.  The  doctor  dodged, 
and  the  stuff  splashed  against  the  cabin  wall, 
only  a  few  drops  reaching  Carlsen's  coat, 
which  he  wiped  off  with  his  handkerchief,  un- 
ruffled. 

"Don't  be  a  damned  fool,"  he  said  to  Rainey, 
his  voice  irritatingly  even.  "Are  you  afraid 
it's  drugged?  I  would  not  be  so  clumsy.  I 
could  have  given  you  a  hypodermic  while  you 
slept,  enough  to  keep  you  unconscious  for  as 
many  hours  as  I  choose — or  forever. 

"I'll  mix  you  another  dose — one  more — take 
it  or  leave  it.  Take  it,  and  you'll  soon  feel 
yourself  again  after  Tamada  has  fed  you. 


32  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Then  we'll  thrash  out  the  situation.  Leave  it, 
and  I  wash  my  hands  of  you.  You  can  go 
for'ard  and  bunk  with  the  men  and  do  the 
dirty  work." 

He  spoke  with  the  calm  assumption  of  one 
controlling  the  schooner,  Rainey  noted,  rather 
as  skipper  than  surgeon.  But  Rainey  felt  that 
he  had  made  a  fool  of  himself,  and  he  took  the 
second  draft,  which  almost  instantly  relieved 
him,  cleansing  his  mouth  and  throat  and,  as 
his  headache  died  down,  clearing  his  brain. 

"Why  did  you  drug  me?"  he  demanded. 
"Pretty  high-handed.  I  can  make  you  pay  for 
this." 

"Yes?  How?  When?  We're  well  off 
Cape  Mendocino,  heading  nor'west  or  there- 
abouts. Nothing  between  us  and  Unalaska 
but  fog  and  deep  water.  Before  we  get  back 
you'll  see  the  payment  in  a  different  light. 
We're  not  pirates.  This  was  plain  business. 
A  million  or  more  in  sight. 

"Lund  nearly  spilled  things  as  it  was,  raving 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  33 

the  way  he  did.    It's  a  wonder  some  one  didn't 
overhear  him  with  sense  enough  to  tumble. 

"We  didn't  take  any  chances.  Rounded  up 
the  crew,  and  got  out.  The  man  who's  made  a 
gold  discovery  thinks  everybody  else  is  watch- 
ing him.  It's  a  genuine  risk.  If  they  fol- 
lowed us,  they'd  crowd  us  off  the  beach.  I 
don't  suppose  any  one  has  followed  us.  If 
they  have,  we've  lost  them  in  this  fog. 

"But  we  didn't  take  any  risks  after  Lund's 
blowing  off.  He  might  have  done  it  ashore  be- 
fore you  brought  him  aboard.  I  don't  think 
so.  But  he  might.  And  so  might  you,  later." 

"I'd  have  given  you  my  word." 

"And  meant  to  keep  it.  But  you'd  have  been 
an  uncertain  factor,  a  weak  link.  You  might 
have  given  it  away  in  your  sleep.  You  heard 
enough  to  figure  the  general  locality  of  the 
island  when  Lund  blurted  it  out.  You  knew 
too  much.  Suppose  the  Karluk  fought  up  to 
Kotzebue  Bay  and  found  a  dozen  power-vessels 
hanging  about,  waiting  for  us  to  lead  them 


34  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

to  the  beach?  And  we'd  have  worried  all  the 
way  up,  with  you  loose.  You're  a  newspaper- 
man. The  suppression  of  this  yarn  would  have 
obsessed  you,  lain  on  your  reportorial  con- 
science. 

"I  don't  suppose  your  salary  is  much  over 
thirty  a  week,  is  it  ?  Now,  then,  here  you  are 
in  for  a  touch  of  real  adventure,  better  than 
gleaning  dock  gossip,  to  a  red-blooded  man. 
If  we  win — and  you  saw  the  gold — you  win. 
We  expect  to  give  you  a  share.  We  haven't 
taken  it  up  yet,  but  it'll  be  enough.  More  than 
you'd  earn  in  ten  years,  likely,  more  than  you'd 
be  apt  to  save  in  a  lifetime.  We  kidnapped  you 
for  your  own  good.  You're  a  prisoner  de  luxe, 
with  the  run  of  the  ship." 

"I  can  work  my  passage,"  said  Rainey.  He 
could  see  the  force  of  the  doctor's  argument, 
though  he  didn't  like  the  man.  He  didn't 
trust  the  doctor,  though  he  thought  he'd  play 
fair  about  the  gold.  But  it  was  funny,  his  as- 
suming control. 

"Yachted  a  bit?"  asked  Carlsen. 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  35 

"Yes." 

"Can  you  navigate  ?" 

Rainey  thought  he  caught  a  hint  of  emphasis 
to  this  question. 

"I  can  learn,"  he  said.  "Got  a  general  idea 
of  it." 

"Ah!"  The  doctor  appeared  to  dismiss  the 
subject  with  some  relief.  "Well,"  he  went  on, 
"are  you  open  to  reason — and  food?  I'm 
sorry  about  your  friends  and  folks  ashore,  but 
you're  not  the  first  prodigal  who  has  come  back 
with  the  fatted  calf  instead  of  hungry  for  it." 

"That  part  of  it  is  all  right,"  said  Rainey. 
There  was  no  help  for  the  situation,  save  to 
make  the  most  of  it  and  the  best.  "But  I'd 
like  to  ask  you  a  question." 

"Go  ahead.    Have  a  cigarette  ?" 

Rainey  would  rather  have  taken  it  from  any 
one  else,  but  the  whiff  of  burning  tobacco,  as 
Carlsen  lit  up,  gave  him  an  irresistible  craving 
for  a  smoke.  Besides,  it  wouldn't  do  for  the 
doctor  to  know  he  mistrusted  him.  If  he  was 
to  be  a  part  of  the  ship's  life,  there  was  small 


36  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

sense  in  acting  pettishly.  He  took  the  cigar- 
ette, accepted  the  light,  and  inhaled  gratefully. 

"What's  the  question  ?"  asked  Carlsen. 

"You  weren't  on  the  last  trip.  You  weren't 
in  on  the  original  deal.  But  I  find  you  doing 
all  the  talking,  making  me  offers.  You 
drugged  me  on  your  own  impulse.  Where's 
the  skipper?  How  does  he  stand  in  this  mat- 
ter? Why  didn't  he  come  to  see  me?  What  is 
your  rating  aboard?" 

"You're  asking  a  good  deal  for  an  outsider, 
it  seems  to  me,  Rainey.  I  came  to  you  partly 
as  your  doctor.  But  I  speak  for  the  captain 
and  the  crew.  Don't  worry  about  that." 

"And  Lund?"  Rainey  could  not  resist  the 
shot.  He  had  gathered  that  the  doctor  resented 
Lund. 

Carlsen' s  eyes  narrowed. 

"Lund  will  be  taken  care  of,"  he  said,  and, 
for  the  life  of  him,  Rainey  could  not  judge  the 
statement  for  threat  or  friendly  promise.  "As 
for  my  status,  I  expect  to  be  Captain  Simms' 
son-in-law  as  soon  as  the  trip  is  over." 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  37 

"All  right,"  said  Rainey.  Carlsen's  an- 
nouncement surprised  him.  Somehow  he  could 
not  place  the  girl  as  the  doctor's  fiancee.  "I 
suppose  the  captain  may  mention  this  matter," 
he  queried,  "to  cement  it?" 

"He  may,"  replied  Carlsen  enigmatically. 
"Feel  like  getting  up?" 

Rainey  rose  and  bathed  face  and  hands. 
Carlsen  left  the  cabin.  The  main  room  was 
empty  when  Rainey  entered,  but  there  was  a 
place  set  at  the  table.  Through  the  skylight 
he  noted,  as  he  glanced  at  the  telltale  compass 
in  the  ceiling,  that  the  sun  was  low  toward  the 
west. 

The  main  cabin  was  well  appointed  in  hard- 
wood, with  red  cushions  on  the  transoms  and  a 
creeping  plant  or  so  hanging  here  and  there. 
A  canary  chirped  up  and  broke  into  rolling 
song.  It  was  all  homy,  innocuous.  Yet  he  had 
been  drugged  at  the  same  table  not  so  long  be- 
fore. "  And  now  he  was  pledged  a  share  of  un- 
gathered  gold.  It  was  a  far  cry  back  to  his 
desk  in  the  Times  office  - 


38  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

A  Japanese  entered,  sturdy,  of  white-clad 
figure,  deft,  polite,  incurious.  He  had  brought 
in  some  ham  and  eggs,  strong  coffee,  sliced 
canned  peaches,  bread  and  butter.  He  served 
as  Rainey  ate  heartily,  feeling  his  old  self  com- 
ing back  with  the  food,  especially  with  the 
coffee. 

"Thanks,  Tamada,"  he  said  as  he  pushed 
aside  his  plate  at  last. 

"Everything  arright,  sir?"  purred  the  Japa- 
nese. 

Rainey  nodded.  The  "sir"  was  reassuring. 
He  was  accepted  as  a  somebody  aboard  the 
Karluk.  Tamada  cleared  away  swiftly,  and 
Rainey  felt  for  his  own  cigarettes.  He  hesi- 
tated a  little  to  smoke  in  the  cabin,  thinking 
of  the  girl,  wondering  whether  she  was  on 
deck,  where  he  intended  to  go.  Some  one  was 
snoring  in  a  stateroom  off  the  cabin,  and  he 
fancied  by  its  volume  it  was  Lund. 

It  was  a  divided  ship's  company,  after  all. 
For  he  knew  that  Lund,  handicapped  with  his 
blindness,  would  live  perpetually  suspicious  of 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  39 

Simms.  And  the  doctor  was  against  Lund. 
Rainey's  own  position  was  a  paradox. 

He  started  for  the  companionway,  and  a 
slight  sound  made  him  turn,  to  face  the  girl. 
She  looked  at  him  casually  as  Rainey,  to  his 
annoyance,  flushed. 

"Good  afternoon,"  said  Rainey.  "Are  you 
going  on  deck  ?" 

It  was  not  a  clever  opening,  but  she  seemed 
to  rob  him  of  wit,  to  an  extent.  He  had  yet 
to  know  how  she  stood  concerning  his  presence 
aboard.  Did  she  countenance  the  forcible  kid- 
napping of  him  as  a  possible  tattler  ?  Or —  ? 

"My  father  tells  me  you  have  decided  to  go 
with  us,"  she  said,  pleasantly  enough,  but  none 
too  cordially,  Rainey  thought. 

"Doctor  Carlsen  helped  me  to  my  decision." 

She  did  not  seem  to  regard  this  as  a  thrust, 
but  stood  lightly  swaying  to  the  pitch  of  the 
vessel,  regarding  him  with  grave  eyes  of  ap- 
praisal. 

"You  have  not  been  well,"  she  said.  "I  hope 
you  are  better.  Have  you  eaten  ?" 


40  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Rainey  began  to  think  that  she  was  ignorant 
of  the  facts.  And  he  made  up  his  mind  to  ig- 
nore them.  There  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by 
telling  her  things  against  her  father — much 
less  against  her  fiancee,  the  doctor. 

"Thank  you,  I  have,"  he  said.  "I  was  go- 
ing to  look  up  Mr.  Lund." 

The  sentence  covered  a  sudden  change  of 
mind.  He  no  longer  wanted  to  go  on  deck  with 
the  girl.  They  were  not  to  be  intimates.  She 
was  to  marry  Carlsen.  He  was  an  outsider. 
Carlsen  had  told  him  that.  So  she  seemed  to 
regard  him,  impersonally,  without  interest.  It 
piqued  him. 

"Mr.  Lund  is  in  the  first  mate's  cabin,"  said 
the  girl,  indicating  a  door.  "Mr.  Bergstrom, 
who  was  mate,  died  at  sea  last  voyage.  Doctor 
Carlsen  acts  as  navigator  with  my  father,  but 
he  has  another  room." 

She  passed  him  and  went  on  deck.  Carlsen 
was  acting  first  mate  as  well  as  surgeon.  That 
meant  he  had  seamanship.  Also  that  they  had 
taken  in  no  replacements,  no  other  men  to 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  41 

swell  the  little  corporation  of  fortune-hunters 
who  knew  the  secret,  or  a  part  of  it.  It  was 
unusual,  but  Rainey  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  rapped  on  the  door  of  the  cabin. 

It  took  loud  knocking  to  waken  Lund.  At 
last  he  roared  a  "Come  in." 

Rainey  found  him  seated  on  the  edge  of  his 
bunk,  dressed  in  his  underclothes,  his  glasses  in 
place.  Rainey  wondered  whether  he  slept  in 
them.  Lund's  uncanny  intuition  seemed  to 
read  the  thought.  He  tapped  the  lenses. 

"Hate  to  take  them  off,"  he  said.  "Light 
hurts  my  eyes,  though  the  optic  nerve  is  dead. 
Seems  to  strike  through.  How're  ye  makin' 
out?" 

Rainey  gave  Lund  the  full  benefit  of  his 
blindness.  The  giant  could  not  have  known 
what  was  in  the  doctor's  mind,  but  he  must 
have  learned  something.  Lund  was  not  the 
type  to  be  satisfied  with  half  answers,  and  un- 
doubtedly felt  that  he  held  a  proprietary  in- 
terest in  the  Karluk  by  virtue  of  his  being  the 
original  owner  of  the  secret.  Rainey  won- 


42  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

dered  if  he  had  sensed  the  doctor's  attitude  in 
that  direction,  an  attitude  expressed  largely 
by  the  expression  of  Carlsen's  face,  always 
wearing  the  faint  shadow  of  a  sneer, 

"You  know  they  drugged  me,"  Rainey 
ended  his  recital  of  the  interview  he  had  had 
with  the  doctor. 

"Knockout  drops?  I  guessed  it.  That  doc- 
tor's slick.  Well,  you've  not  much  fault  to 
find,  have  ye?  Carlsen  talked  sense.  Here 
you  are  on  the  road  to  a  fortune.  I'll  see  yore 
share's  a  fair  one.  There's  plenty.  It  ain't  a 
bad  billet  you've  fallen  into,  my  lad.  But  I'll 
look  out  for  ye.  I'm  sort  of  responsible  for 
yore  trip,  ye  see,  matey.  And  I'll  need  ye." 

He  lowered  his  voice  mysteriously. 

"Yo're  a  writer,  Mister  Rainey.  You've 
got  brains.  You  can  see  which  way  a  thing's 
heading.  You've  heard  enough.  I'm  blind. 
I've  bin  done  dirt  once  aboard  the  Karluk,  and 
I  don't  aim  to  stand  for  it  ag'in.  And  I  had 
my  eyes,  then.  No  use  livin'  in  a  rumpus.  Got 
to  keep  watch.  Got  to  keep  yore  eyes  open 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  43 

"And  I  ain't  got  eyes.  You  have.  Use  'em 
for  both  of  us.  I  ain't  asking  ye  to  take  sides, 
exactly.  But  I've  got  cause  for  bein'  sus- 
picious. I  don't  call  the  skipper  Honest  Simms 
no  more.  And  I  ain't  stuck  on  that  doctor. 
He's  too  bossy.  He's  got  the  skipper  under 
his  thumb.  And  there's  somethin'  funny  about 
the  skipper.  Notice  ennything?" 

"Why,  I  don't  know  him,"  said  Rainey. 
"He  doesn't  look  extra  well,  what  I've  seen  of 
him.  Only  the  once." 

"He's  logey,"  said  Lund  confidentially.  "He 
ain't  the  same  man.  Mebbe  it's  his  conscience. 
But  that  doctor's  runnin'  him," 

"He's  going  to  marry  the  captain's  daugh- 
ter," said  Rainey. 

"Simms'  daughter?  Carlsen  goin'  to  marry 
her?  Ump !  That  may  account  for  the  milk  in 
the  cocoanut.  She's  a  stranger  to  me.  Lived 
ashore  with  her  uncle  and  aunt,  they  tell  me. 
Carlsen  was  the  family  doctor.  Now  she's 
off  with  her  father." 

His  face  became  crafty,  and  he  reached  out 


44  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

for  Rainey's  knee,  found  it  as  readily  as  if  he 
had  sight,  and  tapped  it  for  emphasis. 

"That  makes  all  the  more  reason  for  us 
lookin'  out  for  things,  matey,"  he  went  on,  al- 
most in  a  whisper.  "If  they've  played  me  once 
they  may  do  it  ag'in.  And  they've  got  the 
odds,  settin'  aside  my  eyes.  But  I  can  turn  a 
trick  or  two.  You  an'  me  come  aboard  to- 
gether. You  give  me  a  hand.-  Stick  to  me,  an' 
I'll  see  you  git  yore  whack. 

"I'll  have  yore  bunk  changed.  You'll  come 
in  with  me.  An'  we'll  put  one  an'  one  together. 
We'll  be  mates.  Treat  'em  fair  if  they  treat 
us  fair.  But  don't  forget  they  fixed  yore  grog. 
I  had  nothin'  to  do  with  that.  I  may  be 
stranded,  but,  if  the  tide  rises — " 

He  set  the  clutch  of  his  powerful  fingers 
deep  into  Rainey's  leg  above  the  knee  with  a 
grip  that  left  purple  bruises  there  before  the 
day  was  over. 

"We  two,  matey,"  he  said.  "Now  you  am 
me'll  have  a  tot  of  stuff  that  ain't  doped." 

He  moved  about  the  little  cabin  with  an 


A  DIVIDED  COMPANY  45 

astounding  freedom  and  sureness,  chuckling  as 
he  handled  bottle  and  glasses  and  measured  out 
the  whisky  and  water. 

"Wen  yo're  blind,"  he  said,  ramming  his 
pipe  full  of  black  tobacco,  "they's  other  things 
comes  to  ye.  I  know  the  run  of  this  ship, 
blindfold,  you  might  say.  I  c'ud  go  aloft  in  a 
pinch,  or  steer  her.  More  grog?" 

But  Rainey  abstained  after  the  first  glass, 
though  Lund  went  on  lowering  the  bottle  with- 
out apparent  effect. 

"So  yo're  a  bit  of  a  sailor?"  the  giant 
asked  presently.  "An5  a  scholar.  You  can 
navigate,  I  make  no  doubt?" 

"I  hope  to  get  a  chance  to  learn  on  the  trip," 
answered  Rainey.  "I  know  the  general  prin- 
ciples, but  I've  never  tried  to  use  a  sextant. 
I'm  going  to  get  the  skipper  to  help  me  out. 
Or  Carlsen." 

"Carlsen !  What  in  hell  does  a  doctor  know 
about  navigation?"  demanded  Lund. 

Rainey  told  him  what  the  girl  had  said,  and 
the  giant  grunted. 


46  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"I  have  my  doubts  whether  they'll  ever  help 
ye,"  he  said.  "Wish  I  could.  But  it  'ud  be 
hard  without  my  eyes.  An'  I've  got  no  sex- 
tant an'  no  book  o'  tables.  It's  too  bad." 

His  disappointment  seemed  keen,  and 
Rainey  could  not  fathom  it.  Why  had  both 
Lund  and  Carlsen  seemed  to  lay  stress  on  this 
matter?  Why  was  the  doctor  relieved  and 
Lund  disappointed  at  his  ignorance? 

As  they  came  out  of  the  stateroom  together, 
later,  Lund  reeking  of  the  liquor  he  had  ab- 
sorbed, though  remaining  perfectly  sober,  his 
hand  laid  on  Rainey's  shoulder,  perhaps  -for 
guidance  but  with  a  show  of  familiarity, 
Rainey  saw  the  girl  looking  at  him  with  a 
glance  in  which  contempt  showed  unveiled.  It 
was  plain  that  his  intimacy  with  Lund  was  not 
going  to  advance  him  in  her  favor. 


CHAPTER  III 

TARGET  PRACTISE 

THE  Karluk  was  an  eighty-five-ton 
schooner,  Gloster  Fisherman  type,  with  a 
length  of  ninety  and  a  beam  of  twenty-five 
feet.  Her  enormous  stretch  of  canvas,  spread 
to  the  limit  on  all  possible  occasions  by  Captain 
Simms,  was  offset  by  the  pendulum  of  lead 
that  made  up  her  keel,  and  she  could  slide 
through  the  seas  at  twelve  knots  on  her  best 
point  of  sailing — reaching — the  wind  abaft  her 
beam. 

After  Rainey  had  demonstrated  at  the  wheel 
that  he  had  the  mastery  of  her  and  had  shown 
that  he  possessed  sea-legs,  a  fair  amount  of 
seacraft  and,  what  the  sailors  did  not  possess, 
initiative,  Captain  Simms  appointed  him  sec- 
ond mate. 

"We  don't  carry  one  as  a  rule,"  the  skipper 
said.  "But  it'll  give  you  a  rating  and  the  right 
47 


48  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

to  eat  in  the  cabin."  He  had  not  brought  up 
the  subject  of  Rainey's  kidnapping,  and  Rainey 
let  it  go.  There  was  no  use  arguing  about  the 
inevitable.  The  rating  and  the  cabin  fare 
seemed  offered  as  an  apology,  and  he  was  will- 
ing to  accept  it. 

Carlsen  acted  as  first  mate,  and  Rainey  had 
to  acknowledge  him  efficient.  He  fancied  the 
man  must  have  been  a  ship's  surgeon,  and  so 
picked  up  his  seamanship.  After  a  few  days 
Carlsen,  save  for  taking  noon  observations 
with  the  skipper  and  working  out  the  reckon- 
ing, left  his  duties  largely  to  Rainey,  who  was 
glad  enough  for  the  experience.  A  sailor 
named  Hansen  was  promoted  to  acting- 
quartermaster,  and  relieved  Rainey.  Carlsen 
spent  most  of  his  time  attendant  on  the  girl  or 
chatting  with  the  hunters,  with  whom  he  soon 
appeared  on  terms  of  intimacy. 

The  hunters  esteemed  themselves  above  the 
sailors,  as  they  were,  in  intelligence  and  earn- 
ing capacity.  The  forecastlemen  acted,  on  oc- 
casion, as  boat-steerers  and  rowers  for  the 


TARGET  PRACTISE  49 

hunters,  each  of  whom  had  his  own  boat  from 
which  to  shoot  the  cruising  seals. 

There  were  six  hunters  and  twelve  sailors, 
outside  of  a  general  roustabout  and  butt  named 
"Sandy,"  who  cleaned  up  the  forecastle  and 
the  hunters'  quarters,  where  they  messed  apart, 
and  helped  Tamada,  the  cook,  in  the  galley 
with  his  pots  and  dishes.  But  now  there  was 
no  work  in  prospect  for  the  hunters,  and  they 
lounged  on  deck  or  in  the  'midship  quarters, 
spinning  yarns  or  playing  poker.  They  were 
after  gold  this  trip,  not  seals. 

"  'Cordin'  to  the  agreement,"  Lund  said  to 
Rainey,  "the  gold's  to  be  split  into  a  hundred 
shares.  One  for  each  sailorman,  an'  they  chip 
in  for  the  boy.  Two  for  the  hunters,  two  for 
the  cook,  four  for  Bergstrom,  the  first  mate, 
who  died  at  sea.  Twenty  for  'ship's  share.' 
Fifty  shares  to  be  split  between  Simms  an' 
me." 

"What's  the  'ship's  share'?"  asked  Rainey. 

"Represents  capital  investment.  Matter  of 
fact,  it  belongs  to  the  gal,"  said  Lund.  "Simms 


50  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

gave  her  the  Karluk.  It's  in  her  name  with  the 
insurance." 

"Then  he  and  his  daughter  get  forty-five 
shares,  and  you  only  twenty-five?" 

"You  got  it  right,"  grinned  Lund.  "Simms 
is  no  philanthropist.  It  wa'n't  so  easy  for  me 
to  git  enny  one  to  go  in  with  me,  son.  I  ain't 
the  first  man  to  come  trailin'  in  with  news  of  a 
strike.  An'  I  had  nothin'  to  show  for  it.  Not 
even  a  color  of  gold.  Nothin'  but  the  word  of 
a  dead  Aleut,  my  own  jedgment,  an'  my  own 
sight  of  an  island  I  never  landed  on.  Matter 
of  fact,  Honest  Simms  was  the  only  one  who 
didn't  laff  at  me  outright.  It  was  on'y  his  bad 
luck  made  him  try  a  chance  at  gold  'stead  of 
keepin'  after  pelts. 

"An'  we  had  a  hard  an'  tight  agreement 
drawn  up  on  paper,  signed,  witnessed  an'  re- 
corded. 'Course  it  holds  him  as  well  as  it  holds 
me,  but  he  gits  the  long  end  of  that  stick. 
Wen  I  read,  or  got  it  read  to  me,  in  the  Seattle 
News-Courier,  that  the  Karluk  was  listed  as 
'Arrived'  in  San  Francisco,  it  was  all  I  could 


TARGET  PRACTISE  51 

do  to  git  carfare  an'  grub  money.  If  I  hadn't 
bin  blind,  an'  some  of  'em  half-way  human 
to'ards  a  man  with  his  lights  out,  I'd  never 
have  raised  it.  I'd  have  got  here  someways, 
matey,  if  I'd  had  to  walk,  but  I'd  have  got  here 
a  bit  late.  Then  I'd  have  had  to  wait  till 
Simms  got  back  ag'in — an'  mebbe  starved  to 
death. 

"But  I'm  here  an'  I've  got  some  say-so.  One 
thing,  you're  goin'  to  git  Bergstrom's  share. 
I  don't  give  a  damn  where  the  doctor  comes  in. 
If  he  marries  the  gal  he'll  git  her  twenty  shares, 
ennyway.  Though  he  ain't  married  her  yet. 
And  I  ain't  through  with  Simms  yet,"  he 
added,  with  an  emphasis  that  was  a  trifle  grim, 
Rainey  thought. 

"The  crew,  hunters  an'  sailors,  don't  seem 
over  glad  to  see  me  back,"  Lund  went  on. 
"Mebbe  they  figgered  their  shares  'ud  be  big- 
ger. Mebbe  the  doc's  queered  me.  He's  pussy- 
footin'  about  with  'em  a  good  deal.  But  I'll 
talk  with  you  about  that  later.  It's  me  an'  you 
ag'in'  the  rest  of  'em,  seems  to  me,  Rainey. 


52  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

The  doc's  aimin'  to  be  the  Big  Boss  aboard  this 
schooner.  He's  got  the  skipper  buffaloed. 
But  not  me,  not  by  a  jugful." 

He  slammed  his  big  fist  against  the  side  of 
the  bunk  so  viciously  that  it  seemed  to  jar 
the  cabin.  The  blow  was  typical  of  the  man, 
Rainey  decided.  He  felt  for  Lund  not  exactly 
a  liking,  but  an  attraction,  a  certain  compelled 
admiration.  The  giant  was  elemental,  with  a 
driving  force  inside  him  that  was  dynamic, 
magnetic.  What  a  magnificent  pirate  he  would 
have  made,  thought  Rainey,  looking  at  his 
magnificent  proportions  and  considering  the 
crude  philosophies  that  cropped  out  in  his  talk. 

"I'm  in  life  for  the  loot  of  it,  Rainey,"  Lund 
declared.  "Food  an'  drink  to  tickle  my  tongue 
an'  fill  my  belly,  the  woman  I  happen  to  want, 
an'  bein'  able  to  buy  ennything  I  set  my  fancy 
on.  The  answer  to  that  is  Gold.  With  it  you 
can  buy  most  enny  thing.  Not  all  wimmen, 
I'll  grant  you  that.  Not  the  kind  of  woman  I'd 
want  for  a  steady  mate.  Thet's  one  thing  I've 
found  out  can't  be  bought,  my  son,  the  honor 


TARGET  PRACTISE  53 

of  a  good  woman.  An'  thet's  the  sort  of 
woman  I'm  lookin'  for. 

"I  reckon  yo're  raisin'  yore  eyebrows  at 
that?"  he  challenged  Rainey.  "But  the  other 
kind,  that'll  sell  'emselves,  '11  sell  you  jest  as 
quick — an'  quicker.  I'd  wade  through  hell-fire 
hip-deep  to  git  the  right  kind — an'  to  hold  her. 
An'  I'll  buck  all  hell  to  git  what's  comin'  to  me 
in  the  way  of  luck,  or  go  down  all  standin' 
tryin'.  This  is  my  gold,  an'  I'm  goin'  to  han- 
dle it.  If  enny  one  tries  to  swizzle  me  out  of 
it  I'm  goin'  to  swizzle  back,  an'  you  can  lay  to 
that.  Not  forgettin'  them  that  stands  by  me." 

Between  Lund  and  Simms  there  existed  a 
sort  of  armed  truce.  No  open  reference  was 
made  to  the  desertion  of  Lund  on  the  floe.  But 
Rainey  knew  that  it  rankled  in  Lund's  mind. 
The  five,  Peggy  Simms,  her  father,  Carlsen, 
Lund  and  Rainey,  ostensibly  messed  together, 
but  Rainey's  duties  generally  kept  him  on  deck 
until  Carlsen  had  sufficiently  completed  his 
own  meal  to  relieve  him.  By  that  time  the 
girl  and  the  captain  had  left  the  table. 


54  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Lund  invariably  waited  for  Rainey.  Ta- 
mada  kept  the  food  hot  for  them.  And  served 
them,  Lund  making  good  play  with  spoon  or 
fork  and  a  piece  of  bread,  the  Japanese  cutting 
up  his  viands  conveniently  beforehand. 

To  Rainey,  Tamada  seemed  the  hardest 
worked  man  aboard  ship.  He  had  three  messes 
to  cook  and  he  was  busy  from  morning  until 
night,  efficient,  tireless  and  even-tempered. 
The  crew,  though  they  acknowledged  his  skill, 
were  Californians,  either  by  birth  or  adoption, 
and  the  racial  prejudice  against  the  Japanese 
was  apparent. 

A  week  of  good  wind  was  followed  by  dirty 
weather.  The  Karluk  proved  a  good  fighter, 
though  her  headway  was  materially  lessened 
by  contrary  wind  and  sea,  and  the  persistence 
and  increasing  opposition  of  the  storm  seemed 
to  have  a  corresponding  effect  upon  Captain 
Simms. 

He  grew  daily  more  irritable  and  morose, 
even  to  his  daughter.  Only  the  doctor  ap- 
peared able  to  get  along  with  him  on  easy 


TARGET  PRACTISE  55 

terms,  and  Rainey  noticed  that,  to  Carlsen,  the 
skipper  seemed  conciliatory  even  to  deference. 

Peggy  Simms  watched  her  father  with  wor- 
ried eyes.  The  curious,  tarnished  look  of  his 
tanned  skin  grew  until  the  flesh  seemed  continu- 
ally dry  and  of  an  earthy  color;  his  lips  peeled, 
and  more  than  once  he  shook  as  if  with  a  chill. 

On  the  eleventh  day  out,  Rainey  went  below 
in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  for  his  sea- 
boots.  The  gale  had  suddenly  strengthened 
and,  under  reefs,  the  Karluk  heeled  far  over 
until  the  hissing  seas  flooded  the  scuppers  and 
creamed  even  with  the  lee  rail.  In  the  main 
cabin  he  found  Simms  seated  in  a  chair  with 
his  daughter  leaning  over  him,  speaking  to  her 
in  a  harsh,  complaining  voice. 

"No,  you  can't  do  a  thing  for  me,"  he  was 
saying.  "It's  this  sciatica.  I've  got  to  get 
Carlsen." 

As  Rainey  passed  through  to  his  own  little 
stateroom  neither  of  them  noticed  him,  but  he 
saw  that  the  captain  was  shivering,  his  hands 
picking  almost  convulsively  at  the  table-cloth. 


56  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Where's  Carlsen,  curse  him !"  Rainey  heard 
through  his  cabin  partition.  "Tell  him  I  can't 
stand  this  any  longer.  He's  got  to  help  me. 
Got  to.  Got  to.3' 

As  Rainey  appeared,  walking  heavily  in  his 
boots,  the  girl  looked  up.  Her  father  was 
slumped  in  his  chair,  his  face  buried  on  his 
folded  arms.  The  girl  glanced  at  him  doubt- 
fully, apparently  uncertain  whether  to  go  her- 
self to  find  Carlsen  or  stay  with  her  father. 

"Anything  I  can  do,  Miss  Simms?  Your 
father  seems  quite  ill." 

The  hesitation  of  the  girl  even  to  speak  to 
him  was  very  plain  to  Rainey.  Suddenly  she 
threw  up  her  chin. 

"Kindly  find  Doctor  Carlsen,"  she  ordered, 
rather  than  requested.  "Ask  him  to  come  as 
soon  as  he  can.  I — "  She  turned  uncertainly 
to  her  father. 

"Can  I  help  you  to  get  him  into  the  cabin?" 
asked  Rainey. 

She  thanked  him  with  lips,  not  eyes,  and  he 
assisted  her  to  shift  the  almost  helpless  man 


TARGET  PRACTISE  57 

into  his  room  and  bunk.  He  was  like  a  stuffed 
sack  between  them,  save  that  his  body  twitched. 
While  Rainey  took  most  of  the  weight,  he 
marveled  at  the  strength  of  the  slender  girl  and 
the  way  in  which  she  applied  it.  Simms  seemed 
to  have  fainted,  to  be  on  the  verge  of  uncon- 
sciousness or  even  utter  collapse.  Rainey  felt 
his  wrist,  and  the  pulse  was  almost  impercep- 
tible. 

"I'll  get  the  doctor  immediately,"  he  said. 

She  nodded  at  him,  chafing  her  father's 
hands,  her  own  face  pale,  and  a  look  of  anxious 
fear  in  her  eyes. 

"Mighty  funny  sort  of  sciatica,"  Rainey  told 
himself  as  he  hurried  forward.  He  knew 
where  Carlsen  was,  in  the  hunters'  cozy  quar- 
ters, playing  poker.  From  the  chips  in  front 
of  him  he  had  been  winning  heavily. 

"The  skipper's  ill,"  said  Rainey.  "No  pulse. 
Almost  unconscious." 

Carlsen  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"Didn't  know  you  were  a  physician,"  he 
said.  "Just  one  of  his  spells.  I'll  finish  this 


58  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

hand.  Too  good  to  lay  down.  The  skipper 
can  wait  for  once." 

The  hunters  grinned  as  Carlsen  took  his  time 
to  draw  his  cards,  make  his  bets  and  eventually 
win  the  pot  on  three  queens. 

"I  wonder  what  your  real  game  is?"  Rainey 
asked  himself  as  he  affected  to  watch  the  play. 
According  to  his  own  announcement  Carlsen 
was  deliberately  neglecting  the  father  of  the 
girl  he  was  to  marry  and  at  the  same  time 
slighting  the  captain  to  his  own  men.  Carlsen 
drew  in  his  chips  and  leisurely  made  a  note  of 
the  amount. 

"Quite  a  while  yet  to  settling-day,"  he  said 
to  the  players.  "Luck  may  swing  all  round 
the  compass  before  then,  boys.  All  right, 
Rainey,  you  needn't  wait." 

Rainey  ignored  the  omitted  "Mister."  He 
held  the  respect  of  the  sailors,  since  he  had 
shown  his  ability,  but  he  knew  that  the  hunt- 
ers regarded  him  with  an  amused  tolerance 
that  lacked  disrespect  by  a  small  margin.  To 
them  he  was  only  the  amateur  sailor.  Rainey 


TARGET  PRACTISE  59 

fancied  that  the  doctor  had  contributed  to  this 
attitude,  and  it  did  not  lessen  his  score  against 
Carlsen. 

The  captain  did  not  make  his  appearance  for 
that  day,  the  next,  or  the  next.  The  men  be- 
gan to  roll  eyes  at  one  another  when  they 
asked  after  his  health.  Carlsen  kept  his  own 
counsel,  and  Peggy  Simms  spent  most  of  her 
time  in  the  main  cabin  with  her  eyes  always 
roving  to  her  father's  door.  Rainey  noticed 
that  Tamada  brought  no  food  for  the  sick 
man.  Carlsen  was  the  apparent  controller  of 
the  schooner.  Lund  was  quick  to  sense  this. 

"We  got  to  block  tliat  Carlsen' s  game,"  he 
said  to  Rainey.  "There's  a  nigger  in  the  wood- 
pile somewhere  an'  you  an'  me  got  to  uncover 
him,  matey,  afore  we  reach  Bering  Strait,  or 
you  an'  me'll  finish  this  trip  squattin'  on  the 
rocks  of  one  of  the  Four  Mountain  Islands 
makin'  faces  at  the  gulls. 

"I  wish  you  c'ud  git  under  the  skin  of  that 
Jap.  No  use  tryin'  to  git  in  with  the  crew  or 
the  hunters.  They're  ag'in'  both  of  us — least- 


60  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

wise  the  hunters  are.  The  hands  don't  count. 
They're  jest  plain  hash." 

Lund  spoke  with  an  absolute  contempt  of  the 
sailors  that  was  characteristic  of  the  man. 

"You  think  they'd  put  a  blind  man  ashore 
that  way?"  asked  Rainey. 

"Carlsen  would.  In  a  minnit.  He'd  argy 
that  you  c'ud  look  out  for  me,  seein'  as  we  are 
chums.  As  for  you,  you've  bin  useful,  but  you 
can't  navigate,  an'  you've  helped  train  Hansen 
to  yore  work.  You  were  in  the  way  at  the 
start,  an'  he'd  jest  as  soon  git  rid  of  you  that 
road  as  enny  other.  He  don't  intend  you  to 
have  Bergstrom's  share,  by  a  jugful." 

Lund  grinned  as  he  spoke,  and  Rainey  felt  a 
little  chill  raise  gooseflesh  all  over  his  body. 
It  was  not  exactly  fear,  but — 

"They  don't  look  on  us  two  as  mascots" 
went  on  Lund.  "But  to  git  back  to  that  Jap. 
Forewarned  is  forearmed.  He  ain't  over  an' 
above  liked,  but  they've  got  used  to  him  goin' 
back  an'  forth  with  their  grub,  an'  they  sort 
of  despise  him  for  a  yellow-skinned  coolie. 


TARGET  PRACTISE  61 

"Now  Tamada  ain't  no  coolie.  I  know 
Japs.  He's  a  cut  above  his  job.  Cooks  well 
enough  for  a  swell  billet  ashore  if  he  wanted 
it.  An'  there  ain't  much  goin'  on  that  Tamada 
ain't  wise  to.  See  if  you  can't  get  next  to  him. 
Trubble  is  he's  too  damn'  neutral.  He  knows 
he's  safe,  becoz  he's  cook  an'  a  damn'  good 
one.  But  he's  wise  to  what  Carlsen's  playin'  at. 

"Carlsen  don't  care  for  man,  woman,  God, 
or  the  devil.  Neither  do  I,"  he  concluded. 
"An'  I've  got  a  card  or  two  up  my  sleeve.  But 
I'd  sure  like  to  git  a  peep  at  what  the  doc's 
holdin'." 

The  storm  blew  out,  and  there  came  a  spell 
of  pleasant  weather,  with  the  Karluk  gliding 
along,  logging  a  fair  rate  where  a  less  well- 
designed  vessel  would  barely  have  found  steer- 
age way,  riding  on  an  almost  even  keel.  Simms 
was  still  confined  to  his  cabin,  though  now  his 
daughter  took  him  in  an  occasional  tray. 

Except  for  observations  and  the  details  of 
navigation,  Carlsen  left  the  schooner  to 
Rainey.  They  were  well  off  the  coast,  out  of 


62  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

the  fogs,  apparently  alone  upon  the  lonely 
ocean  that  ran  sparkling  to  the  far  horizon. 
It  was  warm,  there  was  little  to  do,  the  sailors, 
as  well  as  the  hunters,  spent  most  of  their  time 
lounging  on  the  deck. 

Save  at  meal-times,  Carlsen,  for  one  who 
had  announced  himself  as  an  accepted  lover, 
neglected  the  girl,  who  had  devoted  herself  to 
her  father.  Yet  she  seldom  went  into  her 
cabin,  never  remained  there  long,  and  time 
must  have  hung  heavily  on  her  hands.  A  girl 
of  her  spirit  must  have  resented  such  treat- 
ment, Rainey  imagined,  but  reminded  himself 
it  was  none  of  his  business. 

Lund  hung  over  the  rail,  smoking,  or  paced 
the  deck,  always  close  to  Rainey.  The  manner 
in  which  he  went  about  the  ship  was  almost 
uncanny.  Except  that  his  arms  were  generally 
ahead  of  him  when  he  moved,  his  hands,  with 
their  woolly  covering  of  red  hair,  lightly  touch- 
ing boom  or  rope  or  rail,  he  showed  no  hesita- 
tion, made  no  mistakes. 

He  no  longer  shuffled,  as  he  had  on  shore, 


TARGET  PRACTISE  63 

but  moved  with  a  pantherlike  dexterity,  here 
and  there  at  will.  When  the  breeze  was  steady 
he  would  even  take  the  wheel  and  steer  per- 
fectly by  the  "feel  of  the  wind"  on  his  cheek, 
the  slap  of  it  in  the  canvas,  or  the  creak  of  the 
rigging  to  tell  him  if  he  was  holding  to  the 
course.  And  he  took  an  almost  childish  delight 
in  proclaiming  his  prowess  as  helmsman. 

The  booms  were  stayed  out  against  swinging 
in  flaws  and  the  roll  of  the  sea,  and  Lund 
strode  back  and  forth  behind  Rainey,  who  had 
the  wheel.  The  hunters  were  grouped  about 
Carlsen,  who,  seated  on  the  skylight,  was  tell- 
ing them  something  at  which  they  guffawed  at 
frequent  intervals. 

"Spinnin'  them  some  of  his  smutty  yarns," 
growled  Lund,  halting  in  his  promenade.  "Bad 
for  discipline,  an'  bad  for  us.  He's  the  sort 
of  fine- feathered  bird  that  wouldn't  give  those 
chaps  a  first  look  ashore.  Gittin'  in  solid  with 
'em  that  way  is  a  bad  steer.  You  can't  handle 
a  man  you  make  a  pal  of,  w'en  he  ain't  yore 
rank." 


64  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Carlsen's  slack,  but  he's  a  good  sailorman," 
said  Rainey  casually. 

"Damn'  sight  better  sailorman  than  he  is 
doctor,"  retorted  Lund.  "Hear  him  the  other 
mornin'  w'en  I  asked  him  if  he  c'ud  give  me 
somethin'  to  help  my  eyes  hurtin'?  'I'm  no 
eye  specialist/  sez  he.  'Try  some  boracic  acid, 
my  man.'  I  wouldn't  put  ennything  in  my 
eyes  he'd  give  me,  you  can  lay  to  that.  He'd 
give  me  vitriol,  if  he  thought  I'd  use  it.  I 
wouldn't  let  him  treat  a  sick  cat  o'  mine.  He's 
the  kind  o'  doctor  that  uses  his  title  to  give  him 
privileges  with  the  wimmin.  I  know  his  sort." 

Rainey  wondered  why  Lund  had  asked  Carl- 
sen  for  a  lotion  if  he  did  not  mean  to  use  it, 
but  he  did  not  provoke  further  argument. 
Lund  was  going  on. 

"He  don't  do  the  skipper  enny  good,  thet's 
certain." 

"Captain  Simms  seems  to  believe  in  him," 
answered  Rainey.  He  wondered  how  much  of 
Carlsen's  increasing  dominance  over  the  skip- 
per Lund  had  noticed. 


TARGET  PRACTISE  65 

"Simms  is  Carlsen's  dog!"  exploded  Lund. 
"The  doc's  got  somethin'  on  him,  mark  me. 
Carlsen's  a  bad  egg  an',  w'en  he  hatches,  you'll 
see  a  buzzard.  An'  you  wait  till  he's  needed 
as  a  doctor  on  somethin'  that  takes  more'n  a 
few  kind  words  or  a  lick  out  a  bottle." 

There  was  a  stir  among  the  hunters.  Lund 
turned  his  spectacled  eyes  in  their  direction. 

"What  are  they  up  to  now?"  he  queried. 
"Coin5  to  play  poker?  Wish  I  had  my  eyes. 
I'd  show  'em  how  to  read  the  pips." 

Hansen  came  aft,  offering  to  take  the  wheel. 

"They  bane  goin'  to  shute  at  targets,"  he 

said.    "Meester  Carlsen  he  put  up  prizes.    For 

rifle  an'  shotgun.    Thought  you  might  like  to 

watch  it,  sir." 

Rainey  gave  over  the  spokes  and  went  to  the 
starboard  rail  with  Lund,  watching  the  prep- 
arations between  fore  and  main  masts  for  the 
competition,  and  telling  Lund  what  was  hap- 
pening. Carlsen  gave  out  some  shotgun  cart- 
ridges from  cardboard  boxes,  twelve  to  each 
of  the  six  hunters. 


66  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Hunters  pay  for  their  own  shells,"  said 
Lund.  "But  they  buy  'em  from  the  ship. 
Mate's  perkisite.  They  usually  have  some 
shells  on  hand  for  the  rifles,  but  the  paper  cases 
o'  the  shotgun  cartridges  suck  up  the  damp  an' 
they  keep  better  in  the  magazine  in  the  cabin. 
What  they  shootin'  at?  Bottles?" 

Sandy,  the  roustabout,  had  been  requisi- 
tioned to  toss  up  empty  bottles,  and  those  who 
failed  cursed  him  for  a  poor  thrower.  A 
hunter  named  Deming  made  no  misses,  and  se- 
cured first  prize  of  ten  dollars  in  gold,  with  a 
man  named  Beale  scoring  two  behind  him,  and 
getting  half  that  amount  from  Carlsen. 

Then  came  the  test  with  the  rifles.  The 
weapons  were  all  of  the  same  caliber,  well 
oiled,  and  in  perfect  condition.  As  Lund  had 
said,  each  of  the  hunters  had  a  few  shells  in 
his  possession,  but  they  lacked  the  total  of  six 
dozen  by  a  considerable  margin. 

Carlsen  went  below  for  the  necessary  am- 
munition while  the  target  was  completed  and 
set  in  place.  A  keg  had  been  rigged  with  a 


TARGET  PRACTISE  67 

weight  underslung  to  keep  it  upright,  and  a  tin 
can,  painted  white,  set  on  a  short  spar  in  one 
end  of  the  keg.  A  light  line  was  attached  to  a 
bridle,  and  the  mark  lowered  over  the  stern, 
where  it  rode,  bobbing  in  the  tail  of  the  schoon- 
er's wake,  thirty  fathoms  from  the  taffrail 
where  the  crowd  gathered. 

Carlsen,  returning,  ordered  Hansen  to  steer 
fine.  He  gave  each  competitor  a  limit  of  ten 
seconds  for  his  aim,  contributing  an  element  of 
chance  that  made  the  contest  a  sporting  one. 
Without  the  counting,  each  would  have  de- 
liberately waited  for  the  most  favorable  mo- 
ment when  the  schooner  hung  in  the  trough 
and  the  white  can  was  backed  by  green  water. 
As  it  was,  it  made  a  far-from-easy  mark,  slith- 
ering, lurching,  dipping  as  the  Karluk  slid 
down  a  wave  or  met  a  fresh  one,  the  can  often 
blurred  against  the  blobs  of  foam. 

More  bullets  hit  the  keg  than  the  can,  and 
Carlsen  was  often  called  upon  as  umpire.  But 
the  tin  gradually  became  ragged  and  blotched 
where  the  steel- jacketed  missiles  tore  through. 


68  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Beale  and  Deming  both  had  five  clean,  undis- 
puted hits,  tying  for  first  prize.  Beale  offered 
to  shoot  it  off  with  six  more  shells  apiece,  and 
Deming  consented. 

"Can't  be  done,"  declared  Carlsen.  "Not 
right  now,  anyway.  I  gave  out  the  last  shell 
there  was  in  the  magazine.  If  there  are  any 
more  the  skipper's  got  them  stowed  away,  and 
I  can't  disturb  him." 

"Derned  funny,"  said  Deming,  "a  sealer  shy 
on  cartridges !  Lucky  we  ain't  worryin'  about 
thet  sort  of  a  cargo." 

"Probably  plenty  aboard  somewhere,"  said 
Carlsen,  "but  I  don't  know  where  they  are. 
Sorry  to  break  up  the  shooting.  You  boys 
have  got  me  beaten  on  rifles  and  shotguns,"  he 
went  on,  producing  from  his  hip  pocket  a  flat, 
effective-looking  automatic  pistol  of  heavy 
caliber.  "How  are  you  on  small  arms?" 

The  hunters  shook  their  heads  dubiously. 

"Never  use  'em,"  said  Deming.  "Never 
could  do  much  with  that  kind,  ennyhow.  Give 
me  a  revolver,  an'  I  might  make  out  to  hit  a 


TARGET  PRACTISE  69 

whale,  if  he  was  close  enough,  but  not  with  one 
o'  them." 

"Not  much  difference,"  said  Carlsen.  "Any 
of  you  got  revolvers  ?" 

No  one  spoke.  It  was  against  the  unwritten 
laws  of  a  vessel  for  pistols  to  be  owned  for- 
ward of  the  main  cabin.  Beale  finally  an- 
swered for  the  rest. 

"Nary  a  pistol,  sir." 

"Then,"  said  Carlsen,  "I'll  give  you  an  exhi- 
bition myself.  Any  bottles  left?  Beale,  will 
you  toss  them  for  me  ?" 

There  were  eight  shots  in  the  automatic,  and 
Carlsen  smashed  seven  bottles  in  mid-air.  He 
missed  the  last,  but  retrieved  himself  by  break- 
ing it  as  it  dipped  in  the  wake.  The  hunters 
shouted  their  appreciation. 

"Break  all  of  'em?"  Lund  asked  Rainey. 
"Enny  bottles  left  at  all?" 

He  walked  toward  the  taffrail,  addressing 
Carlsen. 

"Kin  you  shoot  by  sound  as  well  as  by  sight, 
Doc?"  he  challenged. 


70  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"I  fancy  not,"  said  Carlsen. 

"If  I  had  my  eyes  I'd  snapshoot  ye  for  a 
hundred  bucks,"  said  Lund.  "As  it  is,  I  might 
target  one  or  two.  Rainey,  have  some  one  run 
a  line,  head-high,  an'  fix  a  bottle  on  it,  will  ye  ? 
I  ain't  got  a  gun  o'  my  own,  Doc,"  he  con- 
tinued, "will  you  lend  me  yours?"  Carlsen 
filled  his  clip  and  Lund  turned  toward  Rainey, 
who  was  rigging  the  target. 

"I'll  want  you  to  tap  it  with  a  stick,"  he  said. 
"Signal-flag  staff'll  do  fine." 

Rainey  got  the  slender  bamboo  and  stood  by. 
Lund  felt  for  the  cord,  passed  his  fingers  over 
the  suspended  bottle  and  stepped  off  five  paces, 
hefting  the  automatic  to  judge  its  balance. 

"Ruther  have  my  own  gun,"  he  muttered. 
"All  right,  tetch  her  up,  Rainey." 

Rainey  tapped  the  bottle  on  the  neck  and  it 
gave  out  a  little  tinkle,  lost  immediately  in  the 
crash  of  splintering  glass  as  the  bottle,  hit 
fairly  in  the  torn  label,  broke  in  half. 

"How  much  left?"  asked  Lund.  "Half? 
Tetch  it  up." 


TARGET  PRACTISE  71 

Again  he  fired  and  again  the  bullet  found  the 
mark,  leaving  only  the  neck  of  the  bottle  still 
hanging.  Lund  grinned. 

"Thet's  all,"  he  said.  "Jest  wanted  to  show 
ye  what  a  blind  man  can  do,  if  he's  put  to  it." 

There  was  little  applause.  Carlsen  took  his 
gun  in  silence  and  moved  forward  with  the 
hunters  and  the  onlookers,  disappearing  below. 
Rainey  took  the  wheel  over  from  Hansen  and 
ordered  him  forward  again. 

"Given  'em  something  to  talk  about," 
chuckled  Lund.  "Carlsen  wanted  to  show  off 
his  fancy  shootin'.  Wai,  I've  shown  'em  I 
ain't  entirely  wrecked  if  I  ain't  carryin'  lights. 
An'  I  slipped  rnore'n  one  over  on  Carlsen  at 
that." 

Rainey  did  not  catch  his  entire  meaning  and 
said  nothing. 

"Did  you  get  wise  to  the  play  about  the 
shells?"  asked  Lund.  "A  smart  trick,  though 
Deming  almost  tumbled.  Carlsen  got  those 
dumb  fools  of  hunters  to  fire  away  every  shell 
they  happened  to  have  for'ard.  If  the  maga- 


72  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

zinc's  empty,  I'll  bet  Carlsen  knows  where 
they's  plenty  more  shells,  if  we  ever  needed  'em 
bad.  But  now  those  rifles  an'  shotguns  ain't 
no  more  use  than  so  many  clubs — not  to  the 
hunters.  An'  he's  found  out  they  ain't  got  enny 
pistols.  He's  got  one,  an'  shows  'em  how 
straight  he  shoots,  jest  in  case  there  should  be 
enny  trubble  between  'em.  Plays  both  ends 
to  the  middle,  does  Carlsen.  Slick!  But  he 
ain't  won  the  pot.  They's  a  joker  in  this  game. 
Mebbe  he  holds  it,  mebbe  not." 

He  nodded  mysteriously,  well  pleased  with 
himself. 

"Don't  suppose  you  brought  a  gun  along 
with  ye?"  he  asked  Rainey.  "Might  come  in 
handy." 

"I  wasn't  expecting  to  stay,"  Rainey  replied 
dryly,  "or  I  might  have." 

Lund  laughed  heartily,  slapping  his  leg. 

"That's  a  good  un,"  he  declared.  "It  would 
have  bin  a  good  idea,  though.  It  sure  pays  to 
go  heeled  when  you  travel  with  strangers." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  BOWHEAD 

CAPTAIN  SIMMS  appeared  again  in  the 
cabin  and  on  deck,  but  he  was  not  the 
same  man.  His  illness  seemed  to  have  robbed 
him  permanently  of  what  was  left  him  of  the 
spring  of  manhood.  It  was  as  if  his  juices 
had  been  sucked  from  his  veins  and  arteries 
and  tissues,  leaving  him  flabby,  irresolute,  com- 
pared to  his  former  self.  Even  as  Lund 
shadowed  Rainey,  so  Simms  shadowed  Carl- 
sen. 

The  fine  weather  vanished,  snuffed  out  in 
an  hour  and,  day  after  day,  the  Karluk  flung 
herself  at  mocking  seas  that  pounded  her  bows 
with  blows  that  sounded  like  the  noise  of  a 
giant's  drum.  The  sun  was  never  seen. 
Through  daylight  hours  the  schooner  wrestled 
with  the  elements  in  a  ghastly,  purplish  twi- 
light, lifting  under  double  reefs  over  great 
73 


74  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

waves  that  raised  spuming  crests  to  overwhelm 
her,  and  were  ridden  down,  hissing  and  roar- 
ing, burying  one  rail  and  covering  the  deck  to 
the  hatches  with  yeasty  turmoil. 

The  Karluk  charged  the  stubborn  fury  of 
the  gale,  rolling  from  side  to  side,  lancing  the 
seas,  gaining  a  little  headway,  losing  leeway, 
fighting,  fighting,  while  every  foot  of  timber, 
every  fathom  of  rope,  groaned  and  creaked 
perpetually,  but  endured. 

To  Rainey,  this  persistent  struggle — as  he 
himself  controlled  the  schooner,  legs  far 
astride,  his  oilskins  dripping,  his  feet  awash 
to  the  ankles,  spume  drenching  and  whipping 
him,  the  wind  a  lash — brought  exultation  and 
a  sense  of  mastery  and  confidence  such  as  he 
had  never  before  held  suggestion  of.  To  guide 
the  ship,  constantly  to  baffle  the  sea  and  wind, 
the  turbulence,  buffeting  bows  and  run  and 
counter,  smashing  at  the  rudder,  leaping  al- 
ways like  a  pack  of  yapping  hounds — this  was 
a  thing  that  left  the  days  of  his  water-front 
detail  far  behind. 


THE  BOWHEAD  75 

And  then  he  had  thought  himself  in  the 
whirl  of  things !  Even  as  Simms  seemed  to  be 
declining,  so  Rainey  felt  that  he  was  coming 
into  the  fulness  of  strength  and  health. 

Lund  was  ever  with  him.  Sometimes  the 
girl  would  come  up  on  deck  in  her  own  water- 
proofs and  stand  against  the  rail  to  watch  the 
storm,  silent  as  far  as  the  pair  were  concerned. 
And  presently  Carlsen  would  come  from  below 
or  forward  and  stand  to  talk  with  her  until 
she  was  tired  of  the  deck. 

They  did  not  seem  much  like  lovers,  Rainey 
fancied.  They  lacked  the  little  intimacies  that 
he,  though  he  made  himself  somewhat  of  an 
automaton  at  the  wheel,  could  not  have  failed 
to  see.  If  the  girl  slipped,  Carlsen' s  hand 
would  catch  and  steady  her  by  the  arm ;  never 
go  about  her  waist.  And  there  was  no  especial 
look  of  welcome  in  her  face  when  the  doctor 
came  to  her. 

Carlsen  seldom  took  over  the  wheel.  Rainey 
did  more  than  his  share  from  sheer  love  of 
feeling  the  control.  But  one  day,  at  a  word 


76  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

from  the  girl,  Carlsen  and  she  came  up  to 
Rainey  as  he  handled  the  spokes. 

"I'll  take  the  wheel  a  while,  Rainey,"  said 
the  doctor. 

Rainey  gave  it  up  and  went  amidships.  Out 
of  the  tail  of  his  eye  he  could  see  that  the  girl 
was  pleading  to  handle  the  ship,  and  that  Carl- 
sen  was  going  to  let  her  do  so. 

Rainey  shrugged  his  shoulders.  It  was  Carl- 
sen's  risk.  It  was  no  child's  play  in  that 
weather  to  steer  properly.  The  Karluk,  with 
her  narrow  beam,  was  lithe  and  active  as  a 
great  cat  in  those  waves.  It  took  not  only 
strength,  but  watchfulness  and  experience  to 
hold  the  course  in  the  welter  of  cross-seas. 

Lund,  whose  recognition  of  voices  was  per- 
fect, moved  amidships  as  soon  as  Carlsen  and 
Peggy  Simms  came  aft.  There  was  no  at- 
tempt at  disguising  the  fact  that  the  schooner's 
afterward  was  a  divided  company  and,  save 
for  the  fact  of  his  blindness  tempering  the 
action,  the  manner  of  Lund's  showing  them 


THE  BOWHEAD  77 

his  back  and  deliberately  walking  off  would 
have  been  a  deliberate  insult. 

Not  to  the  girl,  Rainey  thought.  At  first 
he  had  considered  Lund's  character  as  com- 
paratively simple — and  brutal — but  he  had 
qualified  this,  without  seeming  consciousness, 
and  he  felt  that  Lund  would  never  deliberately 
insult  a  woman — any  sort  of  woman.  He 
wa"s  beginning  to  feel  something  more  than 
an  admiration  for  Lund's  strength;  a  liking 
for  the  man  himself  had,  almost  against  his 
will,  begun  to  assert  itself. 

They  stood  together  by  the  weather-rail.  It 
was  still  Rainey's  deck-watch,  and  at  any  mo- 
ment Carlsen  might  relinquish  the  wheel  back 
to  him  as  soon  as  the  girl  got  tired.  Suddenly 
shouts  sounded  from  forward,  a  medley  of 
them,  indistinct  against  the  quartering  wind. 
Sandy,  the  roustabout,  came  dashing  aft  along 
the  sloping  deck,  catching  clumsily  at  rail  and 
rope  to  steady  himself,  flushed  with  excite- 
ment, almost  hysterical  with  his  news. 


78  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"A  bowhead,  sir!"  he  cried  when  he  saw 
Rainey.  "And  killers  after  him!  Blowin' 
dead  ahead !" 

Beyond  the  bows  Rainey  could  see  nothing 
of  the  whale,  that  must  have  sounded  in  fear 
of  the  killers,  but  he  saw  half  a  dozen  scythe- 
like,  black  fins  cutting  the  water  in  streaks  of 
foam,  all  abreast,  their  high  dorsals  waving, 
wolves  of  the  sea,  hunting  for  the  gray  bow- 
head  whale,  to  force  its  mouth  open  and  feast 
on  the  delicacy  of  its  living  tongue.  So  Lund 
told  him  in  swift  sentences  while  they  waited 
for  the  whale  to  broach. 

"Ha'f  the  time  the  bowheads  won't  even  try 
an'  git  away,"  said  Lund.  "Lie  atop,  belly  up, 
plain  jellied  with  fear  while  the  killers  help 
'emselves.  Ha'f  the  bowheads  you  git  have 
got  chunks  bitten  out  of  their  tongues.  If 
they're  nigh  shore  when  the  killers  show  up 
the  whales'll  slide  way  out  over  the  rocks  an' 
strand  'emselves." 

Rainey  glanced  aft.  Sandy  had  carried  his 
warning  to  Carlsen  and  the  girl,  and  now  was 


THE  BOWHEAD;  79 

craning  over  the  lee  rail,  knee-deep  in  the  wash, 
trying  to  see  something  of  the  combat.  Peggy 
Simms'  lithe  figure  was  leaning  to  one  side  as 
she,  too,  gazed  ahead,  though  she  still  paid 
attention  to  her  steering  and  held  the  schooner 
well  up,  her  face  bright  with  excitement,  wet 
with  flying  brine,  wisps  of  yellow  hair  stream- 
ing free  in  the  wind  from  beneath  the  close 
grip  of  her  woolen  tam-o'-shanter  bonnet 
of  scarlet.  Carlsen  was  pointing  out  the  racing 
fins  of  the  killers. 

"Bl-o-ows !"  started  the  deep  voice  of  a  look- 
out, from  where  sailors  and  hunters  had 
grouped  in  the  bows  to  witness  this  gladiatorial 
combat  between  sea  monsters,  staged  fittingly 
in  a  sea  that  was  running  wild.  Rainey 
strained  his  gaze  to  catch  the  steamy  spiracle 
and  the  outthrust  of  the  great  head. 

"Bl-o-ows!"  The  deep  voice  almost  leaped 
an  octave  in  a  sudden  shrill  of  apprehension. 
Other  voices  mingled  with  his  in  a  clamor  of 
dismay. 

"Look  out!    Oh,  look  out!    Dead  ahead!" 


80  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

The  enormous  bulk  of  the  whale  had  ap- 
peared, not  to  spout,  but  to  lie  belly  up,  rocking 
on  the  surface  with  fins  outspread,  paralyzed 
with  terror,  directly  in  the  course  of  the  Kar- 
luk,  while  toward  it,  intent  only  on  their  blood 
lust,  leaped  the  killers,  thrusting  at  its  head  as 
the  schooner  surged  down.  In  that  tremendous 
sea  the  impact  would  be  certain  to  mean  the 
staving  in  of  something  forward,  perhaps  the 
springing  of  a  butt. 

"Hard  a  lee  I"  yelled  Rainey.  "Up  with  her ! 
Up!" 

It  was  desire  to  vent  his  own  feelings,  rather 
than  necessity  for  the  command,  that  made 
Rainey  yell  the  order,  for  he  could  see  the 
girl  striving  with  the  spokes,  Carlsen  lending 
his  strength  to  hers.  The  sheets  were  well 
flattened,  the  wind  almost  abeam,  and  there 
was  no  need  to  change  the  set  of  fore  and  main. 

Forward,  the  men  jumped  to  handle  the 
headsails.  The  Karluk  started  to  spin  about 
on  its  keel,  instinct  to  the  changing  plane  of 
the  rudder.  But  the  waves  were  running  tre- 


THE  BOWHEAD  81 

mendously  high,  and  the  wind  blowing  with 
great  force,  the  water  rolling  in  great  moun- 
tains of  sickly  greenish  gray,  topped  with  foam 
that  blew  in  a  level  scud. 

As  the  schooner  hung  in  a  deep  trough,  the 
wind  struck  at  her,  bows  on.  With  the  gale 
suddenly  spilled  out  of  them,  the  topsails  lashed 
and  shivered,  and  the  fore  broke  loose  with 
the  sharp  report  of  a  gunshot  and  disappeared 
aft  in  the  smother. 

Rainey  saw  one  huge  billow  rising,  curving, 
high  as  the  gaff  of  the  main,  it  seemed  to  him, 
as  he  grasped  at  the  coil  of  the  main  halyards. 
Down  came  the  tons  of  water,  booming  on  the 
deck  that  bent  under  the  blow,  spilling  in  a 
great  cataract  that  swashed  across  the  deck. 

His  feet  were  swept  from  under  him,  for  a 
moment  he  seemed  to  swing  horizontal  in  the 
stream,  clutching  at  the  halyards.  The  sea 
struck  the  opposite  rail  with  a  roar  that 
threatened  to  tear  it  away,  piling  up  and  then 
seething  overboard. 


CHAPTER  V 

RAINEY  SCORES 

WITH  it  went  a  figure.  Rainey  caught 
sight  of  a  ghastly  face,  a  mouth  that 
shouted  vainly  for  help  in  the  pandemonium, 
and  was  instantly  stoppered  with  strangling 
brine,  pop-eyes  appealing  in  awful  fright  as 
Sandy  was  washed  away  in  the  cascade.  The 
halyards  were  held  on  the  pin  with  a  turn  and 
twist  that  Rainey  swiftly  loosened,  lifting  the 
coil  free,  making  a  fast  loop,  and  thrusting 
head  and  arms  through  it  as  he  flung  himself 
after  the  roustabout. 

Even  as  he  dived  he  heard  the  bellow  of 
Lund,  knowing  instinctively  the  peril  of  the 
schooner  by  its  actions,  though  ignorant  of  the 
accident.  . 

"Back  that  jib!  Back  it,  blast  yore  eyes! 
Ba-ck— " 

Then  Rainey  was  clubbing  his  way  through 
82 


RAINEY  SCORES  83 

the  race  of  water  to  where  he  glimpsed  an  up- 
flung  arm.  Sandy  was  in  oilskins  and  sea- 
boots,  he  had  hardly  a  chance  to  save  himself, 
however  expert.  And  it  flashed  over  Rainey's 
mind  that,  like  many  sailors,  the  lad  had 
boasted  that  he  could  not  swim.  His  boots 
would  pull  him  under  as  soon  as  the  force  of 
the  waves,  that  were  tossing  him  from  crest  to 
crest,  should  be  suspended.  Rainey  himself 
was  borne  on  their  thrust,  clogged  by  his  own 
equipment,  linked  to  life  only  by  the  halyard 
coil. 

A  great  bulk  wallowed  just  before  him,  the 
helpless  body  of  the  bowhead  whale,  the  killers 
darting  in  a  mad  melee  for  its  head.  Then  a 
figure  was  literally  hurled  upon  the  slippery 
mass  of  the  mammal,  its  gray  belly  plain  in 
the  welter,  a  living  raft  against  which  the 
waves  broke  and  tossed  their  spray. 

Clawing  frantically,  Sandy  clutched  at  the 
base  of  the  enormous  pectoral  fin,  clinging  with 
maniacal  strength,  mad  with  fear.  Striking 
out  to  little  purpose,  save  to  help  buoy  himself, 


84  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

blinded  by  the  flying  scud  and  broken  crests, 
Rainey  felt  himself  upreared,  swept  impotently 
on  and  slammed  against  the  slimy  hulk,  just 
close  enough  to  Sandy  to  grasp  him  by  the 
collar,  as  the  whale,  stung  by  a  killer's  tearing 
at  its  oily  tongue,  flailed  with  its  fin  and  the 
two  of  them  slid  down  its  body,  deep  under 
water. 

Rainey  fought  against  the  suffocation  and 
the  fierce  desire  to  gasp  and  relieve  his  tortured 
lungs.  The  lad's  weight  seemed  to  be  carry- 
ing him  down  as  if  he  was  a  thing  of  lead,  but 
Rainey  would  not  relax  his  grip.  He  could 
not.  He  had  centered  all  his  energy  upon  the 
desire  to  save  Sandy,  and  his  nerve  centers 
were  still  tense  to  that  last  conscious  demand. 

There  came  a  swift,  painful  constriction  of 
his  chest  that  his  failing  senses  interpreted 
only  as  the  end  of  things.  Then  his  head  came 
out  into  the  blessed  air  and  he  gulped  what  he 
could,  though  half  of  it  was  water. 

The  Karluk  was  into  the  wind  and  they  were 
in  what  little  lee  there  was,  dragging  aft  at  the 


RAINEY  SCORES  85 

end  of  the  halyards,  being  fetched  in  toward 
the  rail  by  the  mighty  tugs  of  Lund,  a  weird 
sight  to  Rainey's  smarting  eyes  as  he  caught 
sight  of  the  giant,  with  red  hair  uncovered, 
his  beard  whipping  in  the  wind,  his  black 
glasses  still  in  place,  making  some  sort  of  a 
blessed  monster  out  of  him. 

Rainey  had  his  left  fist  welded  to  the  line, 
his  right  was  set  in  Sandy's  collar,  and  Sandy's 
death  clutch  had  twined  itself  into  Rainey's 
oilskins,  though  the  lad  was  limp,  and  his  face, 
seen  through  the  watery  film  that  streamed 
over  it,  set  and  white. 

A  dozen  arms  shot  down  to  grasp  him.  He 
felt  the  iron  grip  of  Lund  upon  his  left  fore- 
arm, almost  wrenching  his  arm  from  its  socket 
as  he  was  inhauled,  caught  at  by  body  and  legs 
and  deposited  on  the  deck  of  the  schooner,  that 
almost  instantly  commenced  to  go  about  upon 
its  former  course.  Again  he  heard  the  bellow 
of  the  blind  giant,  as  if  it  had  been  a  continua- 
tion of  the  order  shouted  as  he  had  gone  over- 
board. 


86  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Ba-ack  that  jib  to  win'ard !  Ba-ck  it,  you 
swabs !" 

The  Karluk  came  about  more  smartly  this 
time,  swinging  on  the  upheaval  of  a  wave  and 
rushing  off  with  ever-increasing  speed.  Lund 
bent  over  him,  asking  him  with  a  note  that 
Rainey,  for  all  his  exhaustion,  interpreted  as 
one  of  real  anxiety : 

"How  is  it  with  you,  matey?  Did  ye  git 
lunged  up?" 

Rainey  managed  to  shake  his  head  and,  with 
Lund's  boughlike  arm  for  support,  got  to  his 
feet,  winded,  shaken,  aching  from  his  pound- 
ing and  the  crash  against  the  whale. 

"Good  man!"  cried  Lund,  thwacking  him 
on  the  shoulder  and  holding  him  up  as  Rainey 
nearly  collapsed  under  the  friendly  accolade. 

Sandy  was  lying  face  down,  one  hunter 
kneeling  across  him,  kneading  his  ribs  to  bel- 
lows action,  lifting  his  upper  body  in  time  to 
the  pressure,  while  another  worked  his  slack 
arms  up  and  down. 

"I  tank  he's  gone,"  said  Hansen.  "Swal- 
lowed a  tubful." 


RAINEY  SCORES  87 

"That  was  splendid,  Mr.  Rainey !  Wonder- 
ful! It  was  brave  of  you!" 

Peggy  Simms  stood  before  Rainey,  clinging 
to  the  mainstays,  a  different  girl  to  the  one 
that  he  had  known.  Her  red  lips  were  apart, 
showing  the  clean  shine  of  her  teeth,  above 
her  glowing  cheeks  her  gray  eyes  sparkled  with 
friendly  admiration,  one  slender  wet  hand  was 
held  out  eagerly  toward  him. 

"Why,"  said  Rainey,  in  that  embarrassment 
that  comes  when  one  knows  he  has  done  well, 
yet  instinctively  seeks  to  disclaim  honors,  "any 
one  would  have  done  that.  I  happened  to  be 
the  only  one  to  see  it." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  replied  the  girl, 
and  Rainey  thought  her  lip  curled  contemptu- 
ously as  she  glanced  toward  Carlsen  at  the 
wheel.  Yet  Carlsen,  he  fancied,  had  full  ex- 
cuse for  not  having  made  the  attempt,  busied 
as  he  had  been  adding  needed  strength  to  the 
wheel. 

"Oh,  it  was  not  what  he  did,  or  failed  to  do/* 
said  the  girl,  and  this  time  there  was  no  mis- 
taking the  fact  that  she  emphasized  her  voice 


88  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

with  contempt  and  made  sure  that  it  would 
carry  to  Carlsen.  "He  said  it  wasn't  worth 
while." 

Her  eyes  flashed  and  then  she  made  a  visible 
effort  to  control  herself.  "But  it  was  very 
brave  of  you,  and  I  want  to  ask  your  pardon," 
sher 'concluded,  with  the  crimson  of  her  cheeks 
flooding  all  her  face  before  she  turned  away, 
and  made  abruptly  for  the  companion. 

A  little  bewildered,  the  touch  of  her  slim  but 
strong  fingers  still  sensible  to  his  own,  Rainey 
went  to  the  wheel. 

"Shall  I  take  it  over,  Mr.  Carlsen  ?"  he  asked. 
"It's  my  watch." 

Carlsen  surveyed  him  coolly.  Either  he  pre- 
tended not  to  have  heard  the  girl's  innuendo  or 
it  failed  to  get  under  his  skin. 

"You'd  better  get  into  some  dry  togs, 
Rainey,"  he  said.  "And  I'll  prescribe  a  stiff 
jorum  of  grog-hot.  Take  your  time  about  it." 
Rainey,  conscious  of  a  wrenched  feeling  in  his 
side,  a  growing  nausea  and  weakness,  thanked 
him  and  took  the  advice.  Half  an  hour  later, 


RAINEY  SCORES  89 

save  for  a  general  soreness,  he  felt  too  vigor- 
ous to  stay  below,  and  went  on  deck  again. 
Sandy  had  been  taken  forward.  He  en- 
countered the  hunter,  Deming,  and  asked  after 
the  roustabout. 

"Born  to  be  hanged,"  answered  the  hunter 
with  more  friendliness  than  he  had  ever  ex- 
hibited. "They  pumped  it  out  of  him,  and  got 
his  own  pump  to  workin'.  He'll  be  as  fit  as  a 
fiddle  presently.  Asking  for  you." 

"I'll  see  him  soon,"  said  Rainey,  and  again 
offered  relief  to  Carlsen,  which  the  doctor  this 
time  accepted. 

"Miss  Simms  misunderstood  me,  Rainey," 
he  said  easily.  "My  intent  was,  that  Sandy 
could  never  stay  on  top  in  those  seas,  and  that 
it  was  idle  to  send  a  valuable  man  after  a  lout 
who  was  as  good  as  dead.  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
the  whale  you'd  never  have  landed  him.  And 
the  killers  got  the  whale,"  he  added,  with  his 
cynical  grin. 

So  he  had  overheard.  Rainey  wondered 
whether  the  girl  would  accept  the  amended 


90  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

statement  if  it  was  offered.  At  its  best  in- 
terpretation it  was  callous. 

When  Hansen  took  over  the  watch  Rainey 
went  below  to  Sandy.  Lund  had  disappeared, 
but  he  found  the  giant  in  the  triangular  fore- 
castle by  Sandy's  bunk. 

"That  you,  Rainey?"  Lund  asked  as  he  heard 
the  other's  tread.  Then  he  dropped  his  voice 
to  a  whisper : 

"The  lad's  grateful.  Make  the  most  of  it. 
If  he  wants  to  spill  ennything,  git  all  of  it." 

But  Sandy  seemed  able  to  do  nothing  but 
grin  sheepishly.  He  was  half  drunk  with  the 
steaming  potion  that  had  been  forced  down 
him. 

"I'll  see  you  later,  Mister  Rainey,"  he  finally 
stammered  out.  "See  you  later,  sir.  You — 
I—" 

Lund  suddenly  nudged  Rainey  in  the  ribs. 

"Never  mind  now,"  he  whispered. 

A  sailor  had  come  into  the  forecastle  with 
an  extra  blanket  for  Sandy,  contributed  from 
the  hunters'  mess. 


RAINEY  SCORES  91 

"That's  all  right,  Sandy,"  said  Rainey. 
"Better  try  to  get  some  sleep." 

The  roustabout  had  already  dropped  off. 
The  seaman  touched  his  temple  in  an  old- 
fashioned  salute. 

"That  was  a  smart  job  you  did,  sir,"  he  said 
to  Rainey. 

The  latter  went  aft  with  Lund  through  the 
hunters'  quarters.  They  were  seated  under 
the  swinging  lamp  which  had  been  lit  in  the 
gloom  of  the  gale,  playing  poker,  as  usual. 
But  all  laid  down  their  cards  as  Rainey  ap- 
peared. 

"Good  work,  sir!"  said  one  of  them,  and  the 
rest  chimed  in  with  expressions  that  warmed 
Rainey's  heart.  He  felt  that  he  had  won  his 
way  into  their  good-will.  They  were  human, 
after  all,  he  thought. 

"Glad  to  have  you  drop  in  an'  gam  a  bit  with 
us,  or  take  a  hand  in  a  game,  sir,"  added  Dem- 
ing. 

Rainey  escaped,  a  trifle  embarrassed,  and 
passed  through  the  alley  that  went  by  the  cook's 


92  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

domain  into  the  main  cabin.  Tamada  was  at 
work,  but  turned  a  gleam  of  slanting  eyes 
toward  Rainey  as  they  passed  the  open  door. 
The  main  cabin  was  empty. 

"Come  into  my  room,"  suggested  Lund.  "I 
want  to  talk  with  you." 

He  stuffed  his  pipe  and  proffered  a  drink 
before  he  spoke. 

"Best  day's  work  you've  done  in  a  long 
while,  matey,"  he  said  quietly.  "Take  Dem- 
ing's  offer  up,  an'  mix  in  with  them  hunters. 
An'  pump  thet  kid,  Sandy.  Pump  him  dry. 
He'll  know  almost  as  much  as  Tamada,  an' 
he'll  come  through  with  it  easier." 

"Just  what  are  you  afraid  of?"  asked 
Rainey. 

"Son,"  said  Lund  simply,  "I'm  afraid  of 
nothing.  But  they're  primed  for  somethin', 
under  Carlsen.  We'll  be  makin'  Unalaska  ter- 
morrer  or  the  next  day.  Here's  hopin'  it's  the 
next.  An'  we've  got  to  know  what  to  expect. 
Did  you  know  that  the  skipper  has  had  another 
bad  spell?" 


RAINEY  SCORES  93 

"No.  When?" 

"Jest  a  few  minnits  ago.  Cryin'  for  Carlsen 
like  a  kid  for  its  nurse  an'  bottle.  The  doc's 
with  him  now.  An'  I'm  beginnin'  to  have  a 
hunch  what's  wrong  with  him.  Here's  some- 
thin'  for  you  to  chew  on :  Inside  of  forty-eight 
hours  there's  goin'  to  be  an  upset  aboard  this 
hooker  an'  it's  up  to  me  an'  you  to  see  we  come 
out  on  top.  If  not — " 

He  spread  out  his  arms  with  the  great, 
gorilla-like  hands  at  the  end  of  them,  in  a  ges- 
ture that  supplanted  words.  Beyond  any  doubt 
Lund  expected  trouble.  And  Rainey,  for  the 
first  time,  began  to  sense  it  as  something  ap- 
proaching, sinister,  almost  tangible. 

"You  drop  in  on  the  hunters  an'  have  a  little 
game  of  poker  ter-night,"  said  Lund  em- 
phatically. 

"I  haven't  got  much  money  with  me,"  said 
Rainey. 

"Money,  hell !"  mocked  Lund.  "They  don't 
play  for  money.  They  play  for  shares  in  the 
gold.  They've  got  the  big  amount  fixed  at  a 


94  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

million,  each  share  worth  ten  thousand. 
'Cordin'  to  the  way  things  stand  at  present, 
you've  got  forty  thousand  dollars'  worth  in 
chips  to  gamble  with.  Put  it  up  to  'em  that 
way.  I  figger  they'll  accept  it.  If  they  don't, 
wal,  we've  learned  something.  An'  don't  for- 
get to  git  next  to  Sandy." 

A  good  deal  of  this  was  enigmatical  to 
Rainey,  but  there  was  no  mistaking  Lund's 
tremendous  seriousness  and,  duly  impressed, 
Rainey  promised  to  carry  out  his  suggestions. 

As  he  crossed  the  main  cabin  to  go  to  his 
own  room,  Carlsen  came  out  of  the  skipper's. 
He  did  not  see  Rainey  at  first  and  was  hum- 
ming a  little  air  under  his  breath  as  he  slipped 
a  small  article  into  his  pocket.  His  face  held  a 
sneer.  Then  he  saw  Rainey,  and  it  changed 
to  a  mask  that  revealed  nothing.  His  tune 
stopped. 

"I  hear  the  captain's  sick  again,"  said 
Rainey.  "Not  serious,  I  hope." 

Carlsen  stood  there  gazing  at  him  with  his 


RAINEY  SCORES  95 

look  of  a  sphinx,  his  eyes  half-closed,  the  scoff- 
ing light  showing  faintly. 

"Serious  ?  I'm  afraid  it  is  serious  this  time, 
Rainey.  Yes,"  he  ended  slowly.  "I  am  in- 
clined to  think  it  is  really  serious."  He  turned 
away  and  rapped  at  the  door  of  the  girl's  state- 
room. In  answer  to  a  low  reply  he  turned  the 
handle  and  went  in,  leaving  Rainey  alone. 


CHAPTER  VI 

SANDY  SPEAKS 

THE  next  morning  Rainey,  going  on  deck 
to  relieve  Hansen  at  eight  bells,  in  the 
commencement  of  the  forenoon  watch,  found 
Lund  in  the  bows  as  he  walked  forward,  wait- 
ing for  the  bell  to  be  struck.  The  giant  leaned 
by  the  bowsprit,  his  spectacled  eyes  seeming 
to  gaze  ahead  into  the  gray  of  the  northern 
sky,  and  it  seemed  to  Rainey  as  if  he  were 
smelling  the  wind.  The  sun  shone  brightly 
enough,  but  it  lacked  heat-power,  and  the  sea 
had  gone  down,  though  it  still  ran  high  in 
great  billows  of  dull  green.  There  was  a  bite 
to  the  air,  and  Rainey,  fresh  from  the  warm 
cabin,  wished  he  had  brought  up  his  sweater. 

Lightly  as  he  trod,  the  giant  heard  him  and 
instantly  recognized  him. 

"How'd  ye  make  out  with  the  hunters  last 
riight?"  he  queried.    "I  turned  in  early." 
96 


SANDY  SPEAKS  97 

"We  had  quite  a  session,"  said  Rainey. 
"They  got  me  in  the  game,  all  right." 

"Enny  objections  'bout  yore  stakin'  yore 
share  in  the  gold  ?" 

"Not  a  bit.  I  fancy  they  thought  it  a  bit  of 
a  joke.  More  of  one  after  we'd  finished  the 
game.  I  lost  two  thousand  seven  hundred 
dollars,"  he  added  with  a  laugh.  "No  chips 
under  a  dollar.  Sky  limit.  And  Deming  had 
all  the  luck,  and  a  majority  of  the  skill,  I 
fancy." 

"Don't  seem  to  worry  you  none." 

"Well,  it  was  sort  of  ghost  money,"  laughed 
Rainey. 

"You've  seen  the  color  of  it,"  retorted  Lund. 
"Hear  ennything  special?" 

"No."  Rainey  spoke  thoughtfully.  "I  had 
a  notion  I  was  being  treated  as  an  outsider, 
though  they  were  friendly  enough.  But,  some- 
how I  fancy  they  reserved  their  usual  line  of 
talk." 

"Shouldn't  wonder,"  grunted  Lund.  "Seen 
Sandy  yet?" 


98  A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"I  haven't  had  a  chance.  I  imagined  it 
would  be  best  not  to  be  seen  talking  to  him." 

"Right.  Matey,  things  are  comin'  to  a  head. 
There's  ice  in  the  air.  I  can  smell  it.  Feel 
the  difference  in  temperature?  Ice,  all  right. 
An'  that  means  two  things.  We're  nigh  one 
of  the  Aleutians,  an'  Bering  Strait  is  full  of 
ice.  Early,  a  bit,  but  there's  nothin'  reg'lar 
'bout  the  way  ice  forms.  I've  got  a  strong 
hunch  something'll  break  before  we  make  the 
Strait. 

"There's  one  thing  in  our  favor.  Yore 
savin'  Sandy  has  set  you  solid  with  the  hunters. 
They  won't  be  so  keen  to  maroon  you.  An' 
they'll  think  twice  about  puttin'  me  ashore 
blind.  I  used  to  git  along  fine  with  the  hunters. 
All  said  an'  done,  they're  men  at  bottom.  Got 
their  hearts  gold-plated  right  now.  But — " 

He  seemed  obsessed  with  the  idea  that  the 
crew,  with  Carlsen  as  prime  instigator,  had 
determined  to  leave  them  stranded  on  some 
volcanic,  lonely  barren  islet.  Rainey  wondered 
what  actual  foundations  he  had  for  that  theory. 


SANDY  SPEAKS  99 

"The  sailors — "  he  started. 

"Don't  amount  to  a  bunch  of  dried  herrin'. 
A  pore  lot.  Swing  either  way,  like  a  patent 
gate.  I  ain't  worryin'  about  them.  I'm  goin' 
to  git  my  coffee.  I  was  up  afore  dawn,  tryin' 
to  figger  things  out.  You  git  to  Sandy  soon's 
you  can,  matey."  And  Lund  went  below. 

Rainey  saw  nothing  more  of  him  until  noon, 
at  the  midday  meal.  And  he  found  no  chance 
to  talk  with  Sandy.  He  noticed  the  boy  look- 
ing at  him  once  or  twice,  wistfully,  he  thought, 
and  yet  furtively.  A  thickening  atmosphere 
of  something  unusual  afoot  seemed  present. 
And  the  actual  weather  grew  distinctly  colder. 
He  had  got  his  sweater,  and  he  needed  it.  The 
sailors  had  put  on  their  thickest  clothes.  Carl- 
sen  did  not  appear  during  the  morning,  neither 
did  the  hunters.  Nor  the  girl. 

At  noon  Carlsen  came  up  to  take  his  obser- 
vation. He  said  nothing  to  Rainey,  but  the 
latter  noticed  the  doctor's  face  seemed  more 
sardonic  than  usual  as  he  tucked  his  sextant 
under  his  arm. 


100          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

With  Hansen  on  deck  they  all  assembled  at 
the  table  with  the  exception  of  the  captain. 
Tamada  served  perfectly  and  silently.  The 
doctor  conversed  with  the  girl  in  a  low  voice. 
Once  or  twice  she  smiled  across  the  table  at 
Rainey  in  friendly  fashion. 

"Skipper  enny  better?"  asked  Lund,  at  the 
end  of  the  meal. 

Carlsen  ignored  him,  but  the  girl  answered : 

"I  am  afraid  not."  It  was  not  often  she 
spoke  to  Lund  at  all,  and  Rainey  wondered  if 
she  had  experienced  any  change  of  feeling 
toward  the  giant  as  well  as  himself. 

Carlsen  got  up,  announcing  his  intention  of 
going  forward.  Lund  nodded  significantly  at 
Rainey  as  if  to  suggest  that  the  doctor  was  go- 
ing to  foregather  with  the  hunters,  and  that  this 
might  be  an  opportunity  to  talk  with  Sandy. 

"Coin'  to  turn  in,"  he  said.  "Eyes  hurt  me. 
It's  the  ice  in  the  wind." 

"Is  there  ice?"  Peggy  Simms  asked  Rainey 
as  Lund  disappeared.  Carlsen  had  already 
vanished. 


SANDY  SPEAKS  101 

"None  in  sight,"  he  answered.  "But  Lund 
says  he  can  smell  it,  and  I  think  I  know  what 
he  means.  It's  cold  on  deck." 

The  girl  went  to  the  door  of  her  own  room 
and  then  hesitated  and  came  back  to  the  table 
where  Rainey  still  sat.  He  had  four  hours  off, 
and  he  meant  to  make  an  opportunity  of  talking 
to  the  roustabout. 

"Mr.  Carlsen  told  me  he  expects  to  sight 
land  by  to-morrow  morning,"  she  said.  "Una- 
laska  or  Unimak,  most  likely.  How  is  the  boy 
you  saved?" 

She  seemed  so  inclined  to  friendliness,  her 
eyes  were  so  frank,  that  Rainey  resolved  to 
talk  to  her.  He  held  a  notion  that  she  was 
lonely,  and  worried  about  her  father.  There 
were  pale  blue  shadows  under  her  eyes,  and 
he  fancied  her  face  looked  drawn. 

"May  I  ask  you  a  question?"  he  asked. 

"Surely." 

"Just  why  did  you  beg  my  pardon  ?  And,  I 
may  be  wrong,  but  you  seemed  to  make  a  point 
of  doing  so  rather  publicly." 


102          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

She  flushed  slowly,  but  did  not  avoid  his 
gaze,  coming  over  to  the  table  and  standing 
across  from  him,  her  fingers  resting  lightly  on 
the  polished  wood. 

"It  was  because  I  thought  I  had  misunder- 
stood you,"  she  said.  "And  I  have  thought  it 
over  since.  I  do  not  think  that  any  man  who 
would  risk  his  life  to  save  that  lad  could  have 
joined  the  ship  with  such  motives  as  you  did. 
I — I  hope  I  am  not  mistaken." 

Rainey  stared  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"What  motives?"  he  asked.  "Surely  you 
know  I  did  not  intend  to  go  on  this  voyage  of 
my  own  free  will  ?" 

The  changing  light  in  her  eyes  reminded 
Rainey  of  the  look  of  her  father's  when  he  was 
at  his  best  in  some  time  of  stress  for  the 
schooner.  They  were  steady,  and  the  pupils 
had  dilated  while  the  irises  held  the  color  of 
steel.  There  was  something  more  than  ordi- 
nary feminine  softness  to  her,  he  decided.  She 
sat  down,  challenging  his  gaze. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  she  asked,  "that 


SANDY  SPEAKS  103 

you  did  not  use  your  knowledge  of  this  trea- 
sure to  gain  a  share  in  it,  under  a  covert  threat 
of  disclosing  it  to  the  newspaper  you  worked 
for?" 

It  was  Rainey's  turn  to  flush.  His  indigna- 
tion flooded  his  eyes,  and  the  girl's  faltered  a 
little.  His  wrath  mastered  his  judgment.  He 
did  not  intend  to  spare  her  feelings.  What  did 
she  mean  by  such  a  charge?  She  must  have 
known  about  the  drugging.  If  not — she  soon 
would. 

"Your  fiance,  Mr.  Carlsen,  told  you  that,  I 
fancy,"  he  said,  "if  you  did  not  evolve  it  from 
your  own  imagination."  Now  her  face  fairly 
flamed. 

"My  fiance?"  she  gasped.  "Who  told  you 
that?" 

"The  gentleman  himself,"  answered  Rainey. 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  closing  her  eyes,  her  face 
paling. 

"The  same  gentleman,"  went  on  Rainey 
vindictively,  "who  put  chloral  in  my  drink  and 
deliberately  shanghaied  me  aboard  the  Karluk, 


104          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

so  that  I  only  came  to  at  sea,  with  no  chance 
of  return.  He,  too,  was  afraid  I  might  give 
the  snap  away  to  my  paper,  though  I  would 
have  given  him  my  word  not  to.  IjEe  told  me 
it  was  a  matter  of  business,  that  he  had  kid- 
napped me  for  my  own  good,"  he  went  on  bit- 
terly, recalling  the  talk  with  Carlsen  when  he 
had  come  out  of  the  influence  of  the  drug. 
"You  don't  have  to  believe  me,  of  course,"  he 
broke  off. 

"I  don't  think  you  are  quite  fair,  Mr. 
Rainey,"  the  girl  answered.  "To  me,  I  mean. 
I  will  give  you  my  word  that  I  knew  nothing  of 
this.  I — "  She  suddenly  widened  her  eyes 
and  stared  at  him.  "Then — my  father — he?" 

Rainey  felt  a  twinge  of  compassion. 

"He  was  there  when  it  happened,"  he  said. 
"But  I  don't  know  that  he  had  anything  to  do 
with  it.  Mr.  Carlsen  may  have  convinced  him 
it  was  the  only  thing  to  do.  He  seems  to  have 
considerable  influence  with  your  father." 

"He  has.  He — Mr.  Rainey,  I  have  begged 
your  pardon  once ;  I  do  so  again.  Won't  you 


'The  same  gentleman  who  put  chloral  in  my  drink" 


SANDY  SPEAKS  105 

accept  it?  Perhaps,  later,  we  can  talk  this 
matter  out.  I  am  upset.  But — you'll  accept 
the  apology,  and  believe  me  ?" 

She  put  out  her  hand  across  the  table  and 
Rainey  gripped  it. 

"We'll  be  friends?"  she  asked.  "I  need  a 
friend  aboard  the  Karluk,  Mr.  Rainey." 

He  experienced  a  revulsion  of  feeling  toward 
her.  She  was  undoubtedly  plucky,  he  thought ; 
she  would  stand  up  to  her  guns,  but  she  sud- 
denly looked  very  tired,  a  pathetic  figure  that 
summoned  his  chivalry. 

"Why,  surely,"  he  said. 

They  relinquished  hands  slowly,  and  again 
Rainey  felt  something  more  than  her  mere 
grasp  lingering,  a  slight  tingling  that  warmed 
him  to  smile  at  her  in  a  manner  that  brought  a 
little  color  back  to  her  cheeks. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said. 

He  watched  her  close  the  door  of  her  cabin 
behind  her  before  he  remembered  that  she  had 
not  denied  that  she  was  to  marry  Carlsen.  But 
he  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  started  to 


106          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

smoke.  At  any  rate,  he  told  himself,  she  knows 
what  kind  of  a  chap  he  is — in  what  he  calls 
business. 

Presently  he  thought  he  heard  her  softly  sob- 
bing in  her  room,  and  he  got  up  and  paced  the 
cabin,  not  entirely  pleased  with  himself. 

"I  was  a  bit  of  a  cad  the  way  I  went  at  her," 
he  thought,  "but  that  chap  Carlsen  sticks  in  my 
gorge.  How  any  decent  girl  could  think  of 
mating  up  with  him  is  beyond  me — unless — 
by  gad,  I'll  bet  he's  working  through  her  father 
to  pull  it  off!  For  the  gold!  If  he's  in  love 
with  her  he's  got  a  damned  queer  way  of  not 
showing  it." 

The  door  from  the  galley  corridor  opened, 
and  a '  head  was  poked  in  cautiously.  Then 
Sandy  came  into  the  cabin. 

"Beg  pardon,  Mister  Rainey,  sir,"  said  the 
roustabout,  "I  was  through  with  the  dishes. 
I  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  yer."  His  pop-eyes 
roamed  about  the  cabin  doubtfully. 

"Come  in  here,"  said  Rainey,  and  ushered 
Sandy  into  his  own  quarters. 


SANDY  SPEAKS  107 

"Now,  then,"  he  said,  established  on  the 
bunk,  while  Sandy  stood  by  the  partition, 
slouching,  irresolute,  his  slack  jaw  working  as 
if  he  was  chewing  something,  "what  is  it,  my 
lad?" 

"They'd  kick  the  stuffin'  out  of  me  if  they 
knew  this,"  said  Sandy.  "I've  bin  warned  to 
hold  my  tongue.  Deming  said  he'd  cut  it  out 
if  I  chattered.  An'  he  would.  But — " 

"But  what?  Sit  down,  Sandy;  I  won't  give 
you  away." 

"You  went  overboard  after  me,  sir.  None 
of  them  would.  I've  heard  what  Mr.  Carlsen 
said,  that  I  didn't  ermount  to  nothin'.  Mebbe 
I  don't,  but  I've  got  my  own  reasons  for 
hangin'  on.  Me,  of  course  I  don't  ermount 
to  much.  Why  would  I  ?  If  I  ever  had  mother 
an'  father,  I  never  laid  eyes  on  'em.  I've  made 
my  own  livin'  sence  I  was  eight.  I've  never 
'ad  enough  grub  in  my  belly  till  I  worked  for 
Tamada.  The  Jap  slips  me  prime  fillin'.  He's 
only  a  Jap,  but  he's  got  more  heart  than  the 
rest  o'  that  bloody  bunch  put  tergether." 


108          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Rainey  nodded. 

"Tell  me  what  you  know,  quickly.  You  may 
be  wanted  any  minute." 

The  words  seemed  to  stick  in  the  lad's  dry 
throat,  and  then  they  came  with  a  gush. 

"It's  the  doc !  It's  Carlsen  who's  turned  'em 
into  a  lot  of  bloody  bolsheviks,  sir.  Told  'em 
they  ought  to  have  an  ekal  share  in  the  gold. 
Ekal  all  round,  all  except  Tamada — an'  me. 
I  don't  count.  An'  Tamada's  a  Jap.  The  men 
is  sore  at  Mr.  Lund  becoz  he  sez  the  skipper 
left  him  be'ind  on  the  ice.  Carlsen's  worked 
that  up,  too.  Said  Lund  made  'em  all  out  to 
be  cowards.  'Cept  Hansen,  that  is.  He  don't 
dare  say  too  much,  or  they'd  jump  him,  but 
Hansen  sort  of  hints  that  Cap'n  Simms  ought 
to  have  gone  back  after  Lund,  could  have  gone 
back,  is  the  way  Hansen  put  it.  So  they're  all 
goin'  to  strike." 

Rainey's  mind  reacted  swiftly  to  Sandy's 
talk.  It  seemed  inconceivable  that  Carlsen 
would  be  willing  to  share  alike  with  the  hunters 
and  the  crew.  Sandy's  imagination  had  been 


SANDY  SPEAKS  109 

running  wild,  or  the  men  had  been  making  a 
fool  of  him.  The  girl's  share  would  be  thrown 
into  the  common  lot.  And  then  flashed  over 
him  the  trick  by  which  Carlsen  had  disposed  of 
all  the  ammunition  in  the  hunters'  possession. 
He  had  a  deeper  scheme  than  the  one  he  fed 
to  the  hunters,  and  which  he  merely  offered  to 
serve  some  present  purpose.  Rainey's  jaw 
muscles  bunched. 

"Go  on,  Sandy,"  he  said  tersely. 

"There  ain't  much  more,  sir.  They're  goin' 
to  put  it  up  to  Lund.  First  they  figgered  some 
on  settin'  him  ashore  with  you  an'  the  Jap. 
That's  what  Carlsen  put  up  to  'em.  But  they 
warn't  in  favor  of  that.  Said  Lund  found  the 
gold,  an'  ought  to  have  an  ekal  share  with  the 
rest.  An'  they're  feelin'  diff'runt  about  you, 
sir,  since  you  saved  me.  Not  becoz  it  was  me, 
but  becoz  it  was  what  Deming  calls  a  damn 
plucky  thing  to  do." 

"How  did  you  learn  all  this?"  demanded 
Rainey. 

"Scraps,  sir.     Here  an'  there.     The  sailors 


110          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

gams  about  it  nights  when  they  thinks  I'm 
asleep  in  the  fo'c's'le.  An'  I  keeps  my  ears 
open  when  I  waits  on  the  hunters.  But  they 
ain't  goin'  to  give  you  no  share  becoz  you 
warn't  in  on  the  original  deal.  But  they  ain't 
goin'  to  maroon  you,  neither,  unless  Lund 
bucks  an'  you  stand  back  of  him." 

"How  about  Captain  Simms  ?" 

"Carlsen  sez  he'll  answer  for  him,  sir.  He 
boasts  how  he's  goin'  to  marry  the  gal.  That'll 
giv'  him  three  shares — countin'  the  skipper's. 
The  men  don't  see  that,  but  I  did.  He's  a 
bloody  fox,  is  Carlsen." 

"When's  this  coming  off?"  asked  Rainey. 

"Quick!  They're  goin'  to  sight  land  ter- 
morrer,  they  say.  I  heard  that  this  mornin'. 
I  hid  in  my  bunk.  It  heads  ag'inst  the  wall  of 
the  hunters'  mess  an',  if  it's  quiet,  you  can  hear 
what  they  say. 

"They  ain't  goin'  in  to  Bering  Strait  through 
Unimak  Pass.  They're  goin'  in  through  Amu- 
kat  or  Seguam  Pass.  An'  they'll  put  it  up  to 
Lund  an'  the  skipper  somewheres  close  by 


SANDY  SPEAKS  111 

there.  An'  that's  where  you  two'll  get  put  off, 
if  you  don't  fall  in  line." 

"All  right,  Sandy.  You're  smarter  than  I 
thought  you  were.  Sure  of  all  this  ?" 

"I  ain't  much  to  look  at,  sir,  but  I  ain't  had 
to  buck  my  own  way  without  gittin'  on  ter  my- 
self. You  won't  give  me  away,  though? 
They'd  keelhaul  me." 

"I  won't.  You  cut  along.  And  if  we  hap- 
pen to  come  out  on  top,  Sandy,  I'll  see  that 
you  get  a  share  out  of  it." 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

"I'll  come  out  with  you,"  said  Rainey.  "If 
any  one  comes  in  before  you  get  clear,  I'll 
give  you  an  order.  I  sent  for  you,  under- 
stand." 

But  Sandy  got  back  into  the  galley  without 
any  trouble.  Rainey  began  to  pace  the  cabin 
again,  and  then  went  back  into  his  own  room 
to  line  the  thing  up.  Lund  was  asleep,  but  he 
would  waken  him,  he  decided,  filled  with  ad- 
miration at  the  blind  man's  sagacity  and  the 
way  he  had  foreseen  the  general  situation. 


112          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

There  was  not  much  time  to  lose.  He  did 
not  see  what  they  could  do  against  the  proposi- 
tion. He  was  sure  that  Lund  would  not  con- 
sent to  it.  And  he  might  have  some  plan.  He 
had  hinted  that  he  had  cards  up  his  sleeve. 

What  Carlsen's  ultimate  plans  were  Rainey 
did  not  bother  himself  with.  That  it  meant  the 
fooling  of  the  whole  crew  he  did  not  doubt. 
He  intended  eventually  to  gather  all  the  gold. 
And  the  girl — she  would  be  in  his  power.  But 
perhaps  she  wanted  to  be?  Rainey  got  out  of 
his  blind  alley  of  thought  and  started  into  the 
main  cabin  to  give  Lund  the  news. 

The  girl  was  coming  out  of  her  father's  room. 

"Any  better?"  asked  Rainey. 

"No.  I  can't  understand  it.  He  seems  hardly 
to  know  me.  Doctor  Carlsen  came  along  be- 
cause of  father's  sciatica,  but — there's  some- 
thing else — and  the  doctor  can't  help  it  any. 
I  can't  quite  understand — " 

She  stopped  abruptly. 

"Have  you  known  the  doctor  long?"  asked 

% 

Rainey. 


SANDY  SPEAKS  113 

"For  a  year.  He  lives  in  Mill  Valley,  close 
to  my  uncle.  I  live  with  my  father's  brother 
when  father  is  at  sea.  But  this  time  I  wanted 
to  be  near  him.  And  the  doctor — " 

Again  she  seemed  to  be  deliberately  checking 
herself  from  a  revelation  that  wanted  to  come 
out. 

"Did  he  practise  in  Mill  Valley?  Or  San 
Francisco?"  asked  Rainey,  remembering 
Lund's  outburst  against  Carlsen's  professional 
powers. 

"No,  he  hasn't  practised  for  some  years. 
That  was  how  it  happened  he  was  able  to  go 
along.  Of  course,  father  promised  him  a  cer- 
tain share  in  the  venture.  And  he  was  a 
friend." 

She  trailed  off  in  her  speech,  looking  un- 
certainly at  Rainey.  The  latter  came  to  a  de- 
cision. 

"Miss  Simms,"  he  said,  "are  you  going  to 
marry  Doctor  Carlsen?" 

Suddenly  Rainey  was  aware  that  some  one 
had  come  into  the  cabin.  It  was  Carlsen,  now 


114          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

swiftly  advancing  toward  him,  his  face  livid, 
his  mouth  snarling,  and  his  black  eyes  devilish 
with  mischief. 

"I'll  attend  to  this  end  of  it,"  he  said. 
"Peggy,  you  had  better  go  in  to  your  father. 
I'll  be  in  there  in  a  minute.  He's  a  pretty  sick 
man,"  he  added. 

His  snarl  had  changed  to  a  smile,  and  he 
seemed  to  have  swiftly  controlled  himself.  The 
girl  looked  at  both  of  them  and  slowly  went 
into  the  captain's  room.  Carlsen  wheeled  on 
Rainey,  his  face  once  more  a  mask  of  hate. 

"I'll  put  you  where  you  belong,  you  damned 
interloper,"  he  said.  "What  in  hell  do  you 
mean  by  asking  her  that  question?" 

"That  is  my  business." 

"I'll  make  it  mine.  And  I'll  settle  yours 
very  shortly,  once  and  for  all.  I  suppose  you're 
soft  on  the  girl  yourself,"  he  sneered.  "Think 
yourself  a  hero!  Do  you  think  she'd  look  at 
you,  a  beggarly  news-monger?  Why,  she — " 

"You  can  leave  her  out  of  it,"  said  Rainey, 


SANDY  SPEAKS  115 

quietly.  "As  for  you,  I  think  you're  a  dirty 
blackguard." 

Carlsen's  hand  shot  back  to  his  hip  pocket 
as  Rainey's  fist  flashed  through  the  opening 
and  caught  him  high  on  the  jaw,  sending  him 
staggering  back,  crashing  against  the  partition 
and  down  into  the  cushioned  seat  that  ran 
around  the  place. 

But  his  gun  was  out.  As  he  raised  it  Rainey 
grappled  with  him.  Carlsen  pulled  trigger, 
and  the  bullet  smashed  through  the  skylight 
above  them,  while  Rainey  forced  up  his  arm, 
twisting  it  fiercely  with  both  hands  until  the 
gun  fell  on  the  seat. 

Simultaneously  the  girl  and  Lund  appeared. 

"Gun-play?"  rumbled  the  giant.  "That'll 
be  you,  Carlsen!  You're  too  fond  of  shooting 
off  that  gat  of  yores." 

Rainey  had  stepped  back  at  the  girl's  ex- 
clamation. Carlsen  recovered  his  gun  and  put 
it  away,  while  Peggy  Simms  advanced  with 
blazing  eyes. 


116          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"You  coward !"  she  said.  "If  I  had  thought 
—oh!" 

She  made  a  gesture  of  utter  loathing,  at 
which  Carlsen  sneered. 

"I'll  show  you  whether  I'm  a  coward  or  not, 
my  lady,"  he  said,  "before  I  get  through  with 
all  of  you.  And  I'll  tell  you  one  thing:  The 
captain's  life  is  in  my  hands.  And  he  and  I 
are  the  only  navigators  aboard  this  vessel,  ex- 
cept a  fool  of  a  blind  man,"  he  added,  as  he 
strode  to  the  door  of  Simms'  cabin,  turned  to 
look  at  them,  laughed  deliberately  in  their 
faces,  and  shut  the  door  on  them. 


CHAPTER  VII 

RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION 

"TT  TELL?"  asked  Lund,  "what  are  you 
W  goin'  to  do  about  it,  Rainey?  Stick 
with  me,  or  line  up  with  the  rest  of  'em,  work 
yore  passage,  an'  thank  'em  for  nothing  when 
they  divvy  the  stuff  an'  leave  you  out  ?  You've 
got  to  decide  one  way  or  the  other  damn'  quick, 
for  the  show-down's  on  the  program  for  ter- 
morrer." 

"You  haven't  said  outright  what  you  are 
going  to  do  yourself,"  replied  Rainey.  "As 
for  me,  I  seem  to  be  between  the  devil  and  the 
deep  sea.  Carlsen  has  got  some  plan  to  outwit 
the  men.  It's  inconceivable  that  he'll  be  willing 
to  give  them  equal  shares.  And  he  has  no  use 
for  me." 

"You  ought  to  have  grabbed  that  gun  of  his 
before  he  did,"  said  Lund.    "He'll  put  you  out 
117 


118          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

of  the  way  if  he  can,  but,  now  his  temper's 
b'iled  over  a  bit,  he'll  not  shoot  you.  Not  afore 
the  gold's  in  the  hold.  One  thing,  he  knows 
the  hunters  wouldn't  stand  for  it.  They've 
got  dust  in  their  eyes  right  now — gold-dust, 
chucked  there  by  Carlsen,  but  if  he'd  butchered 
you  he'd  likely  lose  his  grip  on  'em.  I  think 
he  would.  I  don't  believe  yo're  in  enny  dan- 
ger, Rainey,  if  you  want  to  buckle  in  an'  line 
up  with  the  crowd. 

"As  for  me,"  he  went  on,  his  voice  deep- 
ening, "I'm  goin'  to  tell  'em  to  go  plumb  to 
hell.  I'll  tell  Carlsen  a  few  things  first.  Equal 
shares!  A  fine  bunch  of  socialists  they  are! 
Settin'  aside  that  Carlsen's  bullin'  'em,  as  you 
say.  Equal?  They  ain't  my  equal,  none  of 
'em,  man  to  man.  All  men  are  born  free  an* 
equal,  says  the  Constitution  an'  by-laws  of  this 
country  of  ours.  Granted.  But  they  don't 
stay  that  way  long.  They're  all  lined  up  to  toe 
the  mark  on  the  start,  but  watch  'em  straggle 
afore  they've  run  a  tenth  of  the  distance. 

"I  found  this  gold,  an'  they  didn't.     I  don't 


RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION      119 

have  to  divvy  with  'em,  an'  I  won't.  A  lot  of 
I.  W.  W.'s,  that's  what  they  are,  an'  I'll  tell 
'em  so.  More'n  that,  if  enny  of  'em  thinks 
he's  my  equal  all  he's  got  to  do  is  say  so,  an* 
I'll  give  him  a  chance  to  prove  it.  Feel  those 
arms,  matey,  size  me  up.  Man  to  man,  I  c'ud 
break  enny  of  'em  in  half.  Put  me  in  a  room 
with  enny  three  of  'em,  an'  the  door  locked, 
an'  one  'ud  come  out.  That  'ud  be  me." 

This  was  not  bragging,  not  blustering,  but 
calm  assurance,  and  Rainey  felt  that  Lund 
merely  stated  what  he  believed  to  be  facts. 
And  Rainey  believed  they  were  facts.  There 
was  a  confident  strength  of  spirit  aside  from 
his  physical  condition  that  emanated  from 
Lund  as  steam  comes  from  a  kettle.  It  was 
the  sort  of  strength  that  lies  in  a  steady  gale,  a 
wind  that  one  can  lean  against,  an  elastic 
power  with  big  reserves  of  force.  But  the  con- 
ditions were  all  against  Lund,  though  he  pro- 
ceeded to  put  them  aside. 

"Man  to  man,"  he  repeated,  "I  c'ud  beat  'em 
into  Hamburg  steak.  An'  I've  got  brains 


120         A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

enough  to  fool  Carlsen.  I've  outguessed  him 
so  far." 

"He's  got  the  gun,"  warned  Rainey. 

"Never  mind  his  gun.  I  ain't  afraid  of  his 
gun."  He  nodded  with  such  supreme  confi- 
dence that  Rainey  felt  himself  suddenly  rele- 
gating the  doctor's  possession  of  the  gun  to 
the  background.  "If  his  gun's  the  only  thing 
trubblin'  you,  forget  it.  You  an*  me  got  to 
know  where  we  stand.  It's  up  to  you.  I  won't 
blame  you  for  shiftin'  over.  An'  I  can  git 
along  without  you,  if  need  be.  But  we've  got 
along  together  fine ;  I've  took  a  notion  to  you. 
I'd  like  to  see  you  get  a  whack  of  that  gold, 
an'  all  the  devils  in  hell  an'  out  of  it  ain't  goin' 
to  stop  me  from  gittin'  it !" 

He  talked  in  a  low  voice,  but  it  rumbled  like 
the  distant  roar  of  a  bull.  Rainey  looked  at 
the  indomitable  jaw  that  the  beard  could  not 
hide,  at  the  great  barrel  of  his  chest,  the  bough- 
like  arms,  the  swelling  thighs  and  calves,  and 
responded  to  the  suggestion  that  Lund  could 


RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION      121 

rise  in  Berserker  rage  and  sweep  aside  all  op- 
position. 

It  was  absurd,  of  course;  his  next  thought 
adjusted  the  balance  that  had  been  weighed 
down  by  the  compelling  quality  of  the  man's 
vigor  but,  for  the  moment,  remembering  his 
earlier  simile,  Lund  appeared  a  blind  Samson 
who,  by  some  miracle,  could  at  the  last  moment 
destroy  his  enemies  by  pulling  down  their  house 
— or  their  ship — about  them. 

"Carlsen  says  that  the  skipper's  life  is  in  his 
hands,"  he  said,  still  evading  Lund's  direct 
question.  "What  do  you  make  of  that?" 

"I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it,"  answered 
Lund.  "If  it  is,  God  help  the  skipper!  I 
reckon  he's  in  a  bad  way.  Ennyhow,  he's  out 
of'  it  for  the  time  bein',  Rainey.  I  don't  think 
he'll  be  present  at  the  meetin'  if  he's  that  ill. 
Carlsen  speaks  for  him.  Count  Simms  out  of  it 
for  the  present." 

"There's  the  girl,"  said  Rainey.  "I  don't 
believe  she  wants  to  marry  Carlsen." 


122          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"If  she  does,"  said  Lund,  "she  ain't  the  kind 
we  need  worry  about.  Carlsen  'ud  marry  her 
if  he  thought  it  was  necessary  to  git  her  share 
by  bein'  legal.  He  may  try  an'  squeeze  her  to 
a  wedding  through  the  skipper.  Threaten  to 
let  her  dad  die  if  she  don't  marry  him,  likely'll 
git  the  skipper  to  tie  the  knot.  It  'ud  be  legal. 
But  if  you're  interested  about  the  gal,  Rainey, 
an'  I  take  it  you  are,  I'm  tellin'  you  that  Carl- 
sen'll  marry  her  if  it  suits  his  book.  If  it  don't, 
he  won't.  An',  if  he  wins  out,  he'll  take  her 
without  botherin'  about  prayer-books  an'  cere- 
monies. I  know  his  breed.  All  men  are  more 
or  less  selfish  an'  shy  on  morals,  in  streaks 
more  or  less  wide,  but  that  Carlsen's  just  plain 
skunk." 

"The  men  wouldn't  permit  that,"  said  Rainey 
tersely.  "If  Carlsen  started  anything  like  that 
I'd  kill  him  with  my  own  hands,  gun  or  no 
gun.  And  any  white  man  would  help  me  do  it." 

"You  would,  mebbe,"  said  Lund,  nodding 
sagely.  "You'd  have  a  try  at  it.  But  you 
don't  know  men,  matey,  not  like  I  do.  This 


RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION      123 

ship's  got  a  skipper  now.  A  sick  one,  I  grant 
you.  But  so  far  he's  boss.  An'  he's  the  gal's 
father.  All's  usual  an'  reg'lar.  But  you  turn 
this  schooner  into  a  free-an'-easy,  equal  shares- 
to-all,  go-as-you-please  outfit,  let  'em  git  their 
claws  on  the  gold,  an'  be  on  the  way  home  to 
spend  it — for  Carlsen'll  let  'em  go  that  far 
afore  he  pulls  his  play,  whatever  it  is — an'  dis- 
cipline will  go  by  the  board. 

"Grog'll  be  served  when  they  feel  like  it, 
they'll  start  gamblin',  some  of  'em'll  lose  all 
they  got.  There'll  be  sore-heads,  an'  they'll 
remember  there's  a  gal  in  the  after-cabin, 
which  won't  be  the  after-cabin  enny  more,  for 
they'll  all  have  the  run  of  it,  bein'  equal;  then 
all  hell's  goin'  to  break  loose,  far's  that  gal's 
concerned. 

"A  bunch  of  men  who've  bin  at  sea  for 
weeks,  half  drunk,  crazy  over  havin'  more  gold 
than  they  ever  dreamed  of,  or  havin'  gambled 
it  away.  Jest  a  bunch  of  beasts,  matey,  when- 
ever they  think  of  that  gal.  They'll  be  too 
much  for  Carlsen  to  handle — an'  " — he  tapped 


124          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

at  Rainey's  knee — "Carlsen  don't  think  enough 
of  enny  woman  to  let  her  interfere  with  his 
best  interests." 

Rainey's  jaw  was  set  and  his  fists  clenched, 
his  blood  running  hot  and  fast.  His  imagina- 
tion was  instinct  to  conjure  up  full-colored 
scenes  from  Lund's  suggestions. 

"You  mean — "  he  began. 

"Under  his  hide,  when  there  ain't  nothin' 
to  hinder  him,  a  man's  plain  animal,"  said 
Lund.  "What  do  these  water-front  bullies 
know  about  a  good  gal — or  care?  They  only 
know  one  sort.  Ever  think  what  happened  to 
a  woman  in  privateer  days  when  they  got  one 
aboard,  alone,  on  the  high  seas?  Why,  if  they 
pushed  Carlsen,  he'd  turn  her  over  to  'em 
without  winkin'." 

"You  hinted  I  was  different,"  said  Rainey. 
"How  about  you,  Lund,  how  would  you  act?" 

"If  Carlsen  wins  out,  I'd  be  chewin'  mus- 
sels on  a  rock,  or  feedin'  crabs,"  said  Lund 
simply.  "I'm  no  saint,  but,  so  long  as  I  can 
keep  wigglin',  there  ain't  enny  hunter  or  sea- 


RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION      125 

man  goin'  to  harm  a  decent  gal.  That's  an- 
other way  they  ain't  my  equal,  Rainey.  Savvy? 
Nor  is  Carlsen.  There  ain't  enough  real  man- 
hood in  that  Carlsen  to  grease  a  skillet.  How 
about  it,  Rainey;  are  you  lined  up  with  me?" 

"Just  as  far  as  I  can  go,  Lund.  I'm  with 
you  to  the  limit." 

Lund  brought  down  his  hand  with  a  mighty 
swing,  and  caught  at  Rainey's  in  mid-air,  grip- 
ping it  till  Rainey  bit  his  lips  to  repress  a  cry 
of  pain. 

"You've  got  the  guts!"  cried  the  giant, 
checking  the  loudness  of  his  voice  abruptly. 
"I  knew  it.  It  ain't  all  goin'  to  go  as  they  like 
it.  Watch  my  smoke.  Now,  then,  keep  out  of 
Carlsen's  way  all  you  can.  He  may  try  an* 
pick  a  row  with  you  that'll  put  you  in  wrong 
all  around.  Go  easy  an'  speak  easy  till  land's 
sighted.  If  you  ain't  invited  to  this  I.  W.  W. 
convention,  horn  in. 

"Carlsen'll  try  an'  keep  you  on  deck,  I  fancy. 
Don't  stay  there.  Turn  the  wheel  over  to 
Sandy  if  you  have  to.  I'll  insist  on  havin'  you 


126          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

there.  That'll  be  better.  They'll  probably 
have  some  fool  agreement  to  sign.  Carlsen 
would  do  that.  Make  'em  all  feel  it's  more 
like  a  bizness  meetin'.  They'll  love  to  scrawl 
their  names  an'  put  down  their  marks.  I'll 
have  to  have  you  there  to  read  it  over  to  me ; 
savvy?" 

"What  do  you  think  Carlsen's  game  is,  if  it 
goes  through  ?" 

"He's  fox  enough  to  think  up  a  dozen  ways. 
Pom  the  schooner  ashore  somewhere  in  the 
night.  Wreck  her.  Git  'em  in  the  boats  with 
the  gold.  Inside  of  a  week,  Deming  an'  one 
or  two  others  would  have  won  it  all.  Then — 
he'd  have  the  only  gun — he'd  shoot  the  lot  of 
'em  an'  say  they  died  at  sea.  He  ain't  got  enny 
more  warm  blood  than  a  squid.  Or  he  might 
land,  and  accuse  'em  all  of  piracy.  What  do 
we  care  about  his  plans?  He  ain't  goin'  to  put 
'em  over." 

Rainey  had  to  relieve  Hansen.  He  left 
Lund  primed  for  resistance  against  Carlsen, 
against  all  the  crew,  if  necessary,  resolved  to 


RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION      127 

save  the  girl,  but,  as  Lund  stayed  below  and 
the  time  slid  by,  his  confidence  oozed  out  of 
him,  and  the  odds  assumed  their  mathematical 
proportion. 

What  could  they  do  against  so  many?  But 
he  held  firm  in  his  determination  to  do  what 
he  could,  to  go  down  with  the  forlorn  hope, 
fighting.  Blind  as  he  was,  Lund  was  the  better 
man  of  the  two  of  them,  Rainey  felt;  it  was 
better  to  attempt  to  seize  the  horns  of  the  di- 
lemma than  weakly  to  give  way  and,  with  Lund 
killed,  or  marooned,  try  single-handed  to  pro- 
tect Peggy  Simms  against  the  horrors  that 
would  come  later. 

He  did  not  believe  himself  in  love  with  her. 
The  environment  had  not  been  conducive  to 
that  sort  of  thing.  But  the  thought  of  her, 
their  hands  clasped,  her  eyes  appealing,  saying 
she  needed  a  friend  aboard  the  Karluk;  the 
young  clean  beauty  of  her,  nerved  him  to  stand 
with  Lund  against  the  odds.  Lund  was  fight- 
ing for  his  rights,  for  his  gold,  but  he  had  said 
that  he  would  not  see  a  decent  girl  harmed  as 


128          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

long  as  he  could  wiggle.  Rough  sea-bully  as 
the  giant  was,  he  had  his  code.  Rainey  tingled 
with  contempt  of  his  own  hesitancy. 

The  Karluk  was  bowling  along  northward 
toward  landfall  and  the  crisis  between  Lund 
and  Carlsen  at  good  speed.  The  weather  had 
subsided  and  the  half  gale  now  served  the 
schooner  instead  of  hindering  her.  Rainey 
turned  over  the  wheel  to  a  seaman  and  paced 
the  deck.  The  bite  in  the  air  had  increased 
until  even  the  smart  walk  he  maintained  failed 
to  circulate  the  blood  sufficiently  to  keep  his 
fingers  from  becoming  benumbed,  so  that  he 
had  to  beat  his  arms  across  his  chest. 

It  was  well  below  the  freezing  point.  If 
they  had  been  sailing  on  fresh  water,  instead  of 
salt,  he  fancied  that  the  rigging  would  have 
been  glazed  where  the  spray  struck  it.  As  it 
was,  the  canvas  seemed  to  him  stiffer  than 
usual,  and  there  was  a  whitish  haze  about  the 
northern  horizon  that  suggested  ice. 

The  tall,  olive-tinted  seas  ranged  up  in  dis- 
solving hills,  the  wind's  whistle  was  shrill  in 


RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION      129 

the  rigging.  Over  the  mainmast  a  gray- 
breasted  bird  with  wide,  unmoving  pinions 
hung  without  apparent  motion,  its  ruby  eyes 
watching  the  ship,  as  if  it  was  a  spy  sent  out 
from  the  Arctic  to  report  the  adventurous 
strangers  about  to  dare  its  dangers. 

As  the  day  passed  to  sunset  the  gloom 
quickly  deepened.  The  sun  sank  early  into 
banks  of  leaden  clouds,  and  the  Karluk  slid 
on  through  the  seething  seas  in  a  scene  of 
strange  loneliness,  save  for  the  suspended  alba- 
tross that  never  varied  its  position  by  an  inch 
or  by  a  flirt  of  its  plumes. 

Rainey  felt  the  dreary  suggestion  of  it  all 
as  he  walked  up  and  down,  trying  to  evolve 
some  plan.  Lund's  mysterious  hints  were  un- 
satisfactory. He  could  not  believe  them  with- 
out some  basis,  but  the  giant  would  never  go 
further  than  vague  talk  of  a  "joker"  or  a  card 
up  his  sleeve.  And  they  would  need  more  than 
one  card,  Rainey  thought. 

He  wondered  whether  they  could  win  over 
Hansen,  who  had  spoken  for  Lund  against  the 


130          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

skipper.  And  had  then  kept  his  counsel.  But 
he  dismissed  Hansen  as  an  ally.  The  Scandi- 
navian was  too  cautious,  too  apt  to  consider 
such  things  as  odds.  Sandy  was  useless,  aside 
from  his  good-will.  He  was  cowed  by  Dem- 
ing,  scared  of  Carlsen,  too  puny  to  do  more 
than  he  had  done,  given  them  warning. 

Tamada?  Would  he  fight  for  the  share  of 
gold  he  expected  to  come  to  him?  Lund  had 
described  him  as  neutral.  But,  if  he  knew  that 
he  was  to  be  left  out  of  the  division?  It  was 
not  likely  that  he  would  be  called  to  the  con- 
ference. The  Japanese  undoubtedly  knew  the 
racial  prejudice  against  him,  a  prejudice  that 
Rainey  considered  short-sighted,  taking  some 
pains  to  show  that  he  did  not  share  it.  At  any 
rate,  Tamada  might  provide  him  with  a 
weapon,  a  sharp-bladed  vegetable  knife  if 
nothing  better. 

But,  if  it  came  to  downright  combat,  they 
must  be  overwhelmed.  Carlsen's  gun  again 
assumed  proper  proportions.  Lund  might  not 
be  afraid  of  it,  but  Rainey  was,  very  frankly. 


RAINEY  MAKES  DECISION      131° 

He  should  have  snatched  it  from  the  cabin 
cushions.  But  Tamada?  He  could  not  dis- 
miss Tamada  as  an  important  factor.  There 
was  no  question  to  Rainey  but  that  Tamada 
was,  by  caste,  above  his  position  as  sealer's 
cook.  It  was  true  that  a  Japanese  considered 
no  means  menial  if  they  led  to  the  proper  end. 
Was  that  end  merely  to  gain  possession  of 
his  share  of  the  gold,  or  did  Tamada  have 
some  deeper,  more  complicated  reason  for 
signing  on  to  run  the  galley  of  the  Karluk? 
Somehow  Rainey  thought  there  was  such  a 
reason.  He  treated  Tamada  with  a  courtesy 
that  he  had  found  other  Japanese  appreciated, 
and  fancied  that  Tamada  gradually  came  to  re- 
gard him  with  a  certain  amount  of  good-will. 
But  it  was  hard  to  determine  anything  that 
went  on  back  of  those  unfathomable  eyes,  or 
to  read  Tamada's  face,  smooth  and  placid  as 
that  of  an  ivory  image. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

TAMADA  TALKS 

T  AM  ADA'S  galley  was  as  orderly  and 
efficient  as  the  operating-room  of  a  first- 
class  hospital.  And  Tamada  at  his  work  had 
all  the  deftness  and  some  of  the  dignity  of  a 
surgeon.  There  was  no  wasted  move,  there 
was  no  litter  of  preparation,  every  article  was 
returned  to  its  specified  place  as  soon  as  used, 
and  every  implement  and  utensil  was  shining 
and  spotless. 

It  was  an  hour  from  the  third  meal  of  the 
day.  Tamada  was  juggling  the  food  for  three 
messes,  and  he  was  doing  it  with  the  calm  pre- 
cision of  one  who  has  every  detail  well  mapped 
out  and  is  moving  on  schedule.  The  boy  Sandy 
was  not  there,  probably  engaged  in  laying  the 
table  for  the  hunters'  mess,  Rainey  imagined. 

Tamada  regarded  him  with  eyes  that  did 
132 


TAMADA  TALKS  133 

not  lack  a  certain  luster,  as  a  sloeberry  might 
hold  it,  but  which,  beneath  their  hooded  lids, 
revealed  neither  interest,  nor  curiosity,  nor 
friendliness.  They  belonged  in  his  unwrinkled 
face,  they  were  altogether  neutral.  Yet  they 
seemed  covertly  to  suggest  to  Rainey  that  they 
might,  on  occasion,  flame  with  wrath  or  hatred, 
or  show  the  burning  light  of  high  intelligence. 
Seldom,  he  thought,  while  their  gaze  rested  on 
him  impassively,  would  they  soften. 

"Tamada,"  he  queried,  "you  think  I  am  your 
friend,  that  I  would  rather  help  you  than  other- 
wise?" 

"I  think  that — yes  ?"  answered  the  Japanese 
without  hesitation  and  without  servility.  And 
his  eyes  slowly  searched  Rainey's  face  with 
appraising  pertinacity  for  a  second  or  two. 
His  English,  save  for  the  oddness  of  his  idioms 
and  a  burr  that  made  r*s  of  most  his  I's,  and 
sometimes  reversed  the  process,  was  almost 
perfect.  His  vocabulary  showed  study.  "You 
are  not  hating  me  because  you  are  Calif ornian 
and  I  Japanese,"  he  said.  "I  know  that." 


134          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

There  was  little  time  to  spare,  and  there  was 
likelihood  of  interruption,  so  Rainey  plunged 
into  his  subject  without  introduction. 

"They  promised  you  a  share  of  this  treasure, 
Tamada  ?"  he  asked. 

"They  promised  me  that,  yes." 

"They  do  not  intend  to  give  it  to  you." 
There  was  a  tiny,  dancing  flicker  in  the  dark 
eyes  that  died  like  a  spark  in  the  night  air. 
Rainey  recalled  Lund's  opinion  that  little  went 
on  that  Tamada  did  not  know.  "You  may 
have  guessed  this,"  he  hurried  on,  "but  I  am 
sure  of  it.  I,  too,  am  promised  some  of  the 
gold,  but  they  do  not  intend  to  give  it  to  me. 
They  will  offer  Mr.  Lund  only  a  small  portion 
of  what  was  originally  arranged,  the  same 
amount  as  the  rest  of  them  are  to  get.  He  will 
refuse  that  to-morrow,  when  a  meeting  is  to 
be  called.  Then  there  will  be  trouble.  I  shall 
stand  with  Mr.  Lund.  If  we  win  you  will  get 
your  share,  whether  you  help  us  or  not.  If 
you  help  us  I  can  promise  you  at  least  twice 
the  amount  you  were  to  get" 


TAMADA  TALKS  135 

"How  can  I  help  you?  If  this  is  to  be  talked 
over  at  a  meeting  I  shall  not  be  allowed  to  be 
present.  If  trouble  starts  it  will  do  so  im- 
mediately. Mr.  Lund" — he  called  it  Rund — 
"is  not  patient  man.  What  can  I  do?  How 
can  I  help  you?" 

Rainey  was  nonplused.  He  had  seized  the 
first  opportunity  of  sounding  the  Japanese,  and 
he  had  nothing  outlined. 

"I  do  not  know,"  he  said.  "I  must  talk  that 
over  with  Mr.  Lund.  I  wanted  to  know  if  you 
would  be  on  our  side." 

"Mr.  Lund  will  not  want  me  to  help  you. 
He  does  not  like  color  of  my  skin,  he  does  not 
like  Japanese  because  he  thinks  they  make  too 
good  living  in  California,  and  making  more 
money  than  some  of  his  countrymen.  I  do  not 
think  it  help  you  for  me  to  join.  I  do  not  see 
how  you  can  win.  If  you  can  show  some  way 
out  I  will  do  what  I  can.  But  I  like  to  see  way 
out." 

He  mollified  the  bald  acknowledgment  of 
his  neutrality  with  a  little  bow  and  a  hissing-in 


136          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

breath.  Back  of  it  all  was  a  will  that  was  in- 
flexible, thought  Rainey. 

"If  we  lose,  you  lose,"  he  went  on  lamely. 
He  had  come  on  a  fool's  errand,  he  decided. 

"I  think  I  shall  get  my  money,"  said 
Tamada,  and  something  looked  out  of  his  eyes 
that  betrayed  a  purpose  already  gained,  Rainey 
fancied,  as  a  chess  player  might  gain  assurance 
of  victory  by  the  looking  ahead  to  all  conceiv- 
able moves  against  him,  and  providing  a 
counter-play  that  would  achieve  the  game.  It 
was  borne  in  upon  him  that  Tamada  had  re- 
sources he  could  not  fathom.  The  Oriental 
gave  a  swift  smile,  that  held  no  mirth,  no 
friendship,  rather,  a  sardonic  appreciation  of 
the  situation,  without  rancor. 

"They  are  very  foolish,"  he  said.  "They 
make  me  cook,  they  eat  what  I  serve.  They 
say  Tamada  is  very  good  cook.  But  he  is  Jap, 
damn  him.  Suppose  I  put  something  in  that 
food,  that  they  would  not  taste?  I  could  send 
them  all  to  sleep.  I  could  kill  them.  I  could 
do  it  so  they  never  suspect,  but  would  go  to 


TAMADA  TALKS  137 

their  beds — and  never  get  up  from  them.  It 
would  be  very  easy.  Yet  they  trust  me." 

The  statement  was  so  matter-of-fact  that 
Rainey  felt  his  horror  gather  slowly  as  he 
stared  at  the  impassive  Oriental. 

"You  would  do  that?  What  good  would 
it  do  you?  You  would  have  to  kill  them  all, 
or  the  rest  would  tear  you  apart.  And  if  you 
murdered  the  whole  ship  where  would  you  be  ? 
You  talk  as  if  you  were  a  little  mad.  Suppose 
I  told  Carlsen  of  this?" 

Tamada  was  smiling  again.  He  seemed  to 
know  that  Rainey  was  in  no  position  to  betray 
him — if  he  wished  to  do  so. 

"I  did  not  say  I  would  do  it.  And,  except 
under  certain  circumstances,  it  do  me  little 
good.  I  do  not  expect  to  do  it.  But  it  would 
be  easy.  Yet,  as  you  say,  it  would  not  help  you 
to  kill  only  few,  those  who  will  be  at  the  meet- 
ing, for  example,  even  if  I  wish  to  do.  No,  I 
do  not  see  way  out.  If,  at  any  time  there 
should  seem  way  out  and  I  can  help  you,  I 
will." 


138          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

He  turned  abruptly  to  a  simmering  pot  and 
rattled  the  lid.  The  hunter,  Deming,  stuck  his 
head  in  at  the  door. 

"Smells  good,"  he  said.  "Evening,  Mr. 
Rainey." 

He  seemed  disposed  to  linger,  and  Rainey, 
not  to  excite  suspicion  toward  himself  or 
Tamada,  went  back  on  deck.  What  did 
Tamada  mean  by  "except  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances"? he  asked  himself.  For  one  thing 
he  felt  sure  that  Tamada  had  some  basis  for 
his  expresion  that  he  expected  to  get  his  money. 
He  knew  something.  Was  it  merely  the  Ori- 
ental method  of  jiu-jitsu,  practised  mentally  as 
well  as  physically,  the  belief  in  a  seemingly  pas- 
sive resistance  against  circumstances,  waiting 
for  some  move  that,  by  its  own  aggressiveness, 
would  give  him  an  opening  for  a  trick  that 
would  secure  him  the  advantage  ?  What  could 
one  Japanese  hope  to  do  against  the  crowd? 

A  thought  suddenly  flashed  over  Rainey. 
Was  Tamada  in  league  with  Carlsen?  Had 
he  mistaken  his  man?  Did  Carlsen  plan  to 


T  AM  AD  A  TALKS  139 

have  Tamada  undertake  a  wholesale  poisoning 
to  secure  the  gold  himself,  providing  the 
drugs?  Was  it  a  friendly  hint  from  the  Japan- 
ese? 

Still  mulling  over  it  he  went  down  to  supper. 
The  girl  was  not  present.  Carlsen  appeared  in 
an  unusual  mood. 

"I  was  a  bit  hasty,  Rainey,"  he  said,  with  all 
appearance  of  sincerity.  "I've  been  worried  a 
bit  over  the  skipper.  He's  in  a  bad  way. 

"Forget  what  happened,  if  you  can.  I  apolo- 
gize. Though  I  still  think  your  interference  in 
my  private  affairs  unwarranted.  I'll  call  it 
square,  if  you  will." 

He  nodded  across  the  table  at  Rainey,  saving 
the  latter  a  reply  which  he  was  rather  at  a  loss 
how  to  word.  Amenities  from  Carlsen  were 
likely  a  Greek  gift.  And  Carlsen  rattled  on 
during  the  meal  in  high  good  spirits,  rallying 
Rainey  about  his  poker  game  with  the  hunters, 
joking  Lund  about  his  shooting,  talking  of  the 
landfall  they  expected  the  next  day. 

To  Rainey's  surprise  Lund  picked  up  the 


140          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

talk.  There  was  a  subtle,  sardonic  flavor  to  it 
on  both  sides  and,  once  in  a  while,  as  Tamada, 
like  an  animated  sphinx,  went  about  his  duties, 
Rainey  saw  the  eyes  of  Carlsen  turned  ques- 
tioningly  upon  the  giant  as  if  a  bit  puzzled 
concerning  the  exact  spirit  of  his  sallies. 

Rainey  admired  while  he  marveled  at  the 
sheer  skill  of  Lund  in  this  sort  of  a  fencing 
bout.  He  never  went  far  enough  to  arouse 
Carlsen's  suspicions,  yet  he  showed  a  keen 
sense  of  humorous  appreciation  of  Carlsen's 
half-satirical  sallies  that,  in  the  light  of  Sandy's 
revelation,  showed  the  doctor  considered  him- 
self the  master  of  the  situation,  the  winner  of  a 
game  whose  pieces  were  already  on  the  board, 
though  the  players  had  not  yet  taken  their 
places.  Yet  Rainey  fancied  that  Carlsen  quali- 
fied his  dismissal  of  Lund  as  a  "blind  fool" 
before  they  rose  from  the  table,  without  dis- 
turbing his  own  equanimity  as  the  craftier  of 
the  two. 

Later,  when  his  watch  was  ended  and  he  was 
closeted  with  Lund  in  the  latter's  cabin,  the 


TAMADA  TALKS  141 

giant  promptly  quashed  all  discussion  of 
Tamada's  attitude. 

"I'll  put  no  trust  in  any  slant-eyed,  yellow- 
skinned  rice-eater,"  he  announced  emphatic- 
ally. "They're  against  us,  race  an'  religion. 
They  want  California,  or  rather,  the  Pacific 
coast,  an'  they  think  they're  goin'  to  git  it. 
They're  no  more  akin  to  us  than  a  snake  is  a 
cousin  to  an  eel.  They're  not  of  our  breed,  an' 
you  can't  mix  the  two.  I'll  have  no  deal  with 
Tamada,  beyond  gettin'  dope  out  of  him.  If 
he  helped  us  it  'ud  be  only  to  further  his  own 
ends.  Not  that  he  can  do  much — unless — " 

He  lowered  his  voice  to  a  husky  whisper. 

"There's  one  thing  may  slip  in  our  gold- 
gettin',  matey,"  he  said — "the  Japanese.  I 
doubt  if  this  island  is  set  down  on  American 
or  British  charts.  But  I'll  bet  it  is  on  the  Jap- 
anese. I  don't  know  as  any  nation  has  openly 
claimed  it,  but  it's  a  sure  thing  the  Japs  know 
of  its  existence.  They  don't  know  of  the  gold, 
or  it  wouldn't  be  there.  Rightly,  the  island 
may  belong  to  Russia,  but,  since  the  war,  Rus- 


142          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

sia's  in  a  bad  way,  an'  ennything  loose  from 
the  mainland'll  be  gobbled  by  Japan. 

"What  the  Japs  grab  they  don't  let  go  of. 
On  general  principles  they  patrol  the  west  side 
of  Bering  Strait.  If  one  of  their  patrols  sees 
us  we'll  be  inside  the  sealin'  limit,  an'  they'll 
have  right  of  search.  They'd  take  it,  ennyway, 
if  they  sighted  us.  They  go  by  power  of 
search,  not  right.  They  won't  find  enny  pelts 
on  us,  we've  got  hunters  aboard,  we're  pelagic 
sealers,  they  won't  be  able  to  hang  up  enny 
clubbin'  of  herds  on  us. 

"But,  if  they  should  suspicion  us  of  gittin* 
gold  off  enny  island  they  c'ud  trump  up  to  call 
theirs,  if  they  found  gold  on  us  at  all,  it  'ud  be 
all  off  with  us  an'  the  Karluk.  We'd  be 
dumped  inside  of  some  Jap  prison  an'  the 
schooner  confiscated. 

"An',  if  things  go  right  with  us,  an*  we  ever 
sight  the  smoke  of  a  Jap  gunboat  comin'  our 
way,  the  first  thing  I'll  be  apt  to  do  will  be  to 
scrag  Tamada  or  he'll  blow  the  whole  proposi- 
tion, whether  we've  got  the  gold  aboard  or  not. 


TAMADA  TALKS  143 

Even  if  he  didn't  want  to  tell  becoz  of  his  own 
share,  they'd  git  it  out  of  him  what  we  was 
after." 

Did  this,  wondered  Rainey,  explain  Ta- 
mada's  "certain  circumstances"?  Was  he  cal- 
culating on  the  arrival  of  a  Japanese  patrol? 
Had  he  already  tipped  off  to  his -consul  in 
San  Francisco  the  purpose  of  the  expedition, 
sure  of  a  reward  equal  to  what  his  share  would 
have  been?  If  so,  Rainey  had  made  a  muddle 
of  his  attempt  to  sound  Tamada.  He  felt 
guilty,  glad  that  Lund  could  not  see  his  face, 
and  he  dropped  the  subject  abruptly. 

Lund  seemed  to  know  that  something  was 
amiss. 

"Nervous,  Rainey?"  he  asked.  "That's  be- 
coz you've  not  bin  livin'  a  man's  life.  All  yore 
experience  has  bin  second-hand,  an'  you've 
never  gone  into  a  rough-an'-tumble,  I  take  it. 
You'll  make  out  all  right  if  it  comes  to  that  at 
all.  Yo're  well  put  up,  an'  you've  got  solid  of 
late.  Now  yo're  goin'  to  git  a  taste  of  life  in 
the  raw.  Not  story-book  stuff.  It's  strong 


144          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

meat  sometimes,  an'  liable  to  turn  some  people's 
stomachs.  I've  got  an  appetite  for  it,  an'  so'll 
you  have,  after  a  bit. 

"Ever  play  much  at  cards?"  he  went  on. 
"Play  for  yore  last  red  when  you  don't  know 
where  to  turn  for  another,  an'  have  all  the 
crowd  thinkin'  yo're  goin'  broke  as  they  watch 
the  play?  An'  then  you  slap  down  a  card 
they've  all  overlooked  an'  larf  in  the  other 
chap's  face? 

"That's  what  I'm  goin'  to  do  with  Carlsen. 
I've  got  that  kind  of  a  card,  matey,  an'  I  ain't 
goin'  to  spoil  my  fun  by  tellin'  even  you  what 
ft  is,  though  yo're  my  partner  in  this  gamble. 
It's  a  trump,  an'  Carlsen' s  overlooked  it.  He 
figgers  he's  stacked  the  deck  an'  fixed  it  so's  he 
deals  himself  all  the  winnin'  cards.  But  there's 
one  he  don't  know  is  there  becoz  he's  more  of  a 
blind  fool  than  I  am,  is  Doctor  Carlsen." 

Lund  chuckled  hugely  as  he  mixed  himself 
some  whisky  and  water.  Rainey  refused  a 
drink.  Lund  was  right,  he  was  nervous, 
bothering  over  what  the  outcome  might  be,  and 


TAMADA  TALKS  145" 

how  he  might  handle  himself.  He  was  not  at 
all  sure  of  his  own  grit. 

Lund  had  hit  the  nail  on  the  head.  All  his 
experience  had  lain  in  listening  to  the  stories 
of  others  and  writing  them  down.  He  did  not 
know  whether  he  would  act  in  a  manner  that 
would  satisfy  himself.  There  was  a  nasty 
doubt  as  to  his  own  prowess  and  his  own  cour- 
age that  kept  cropping  up.  And  that  state  of 
mind  is  not  a  pleasant  one. 

"All  be  over  this  time  ter-morrer,"  put  in 
Lund,  "so  far  as  our  bisness  with  Carlsen  is 
concerned.  You  git  all  the  sleep  you  can  ter- 
night,  Rainey.  An'  don't  you  worry  none  about 
that  gal.  She's  a  damn'  sight  more  capable  of 
lookin'  after  herself  than  you  imagine.  You 
ain't  counted  her  in  as  bein'  more  than  a  cling- 
in'  vine  proposition.  Not  that  she  could  buck 
it  on  her  own,  but  she's  no  fool,  an'  I  bet  she's 
game. 

"Soft  on  her?"  he  challenged  unexpectedly. 

"I  haven't  thought  of  her  in  that  way," 
Rainey  answered,  a  bit  shortly. 


146          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Ah!"  the  giant  ejaculated  softly.  "You 
haven't?  Wai,  mebbe  it's  jest  as  well." 

Rainey  took  that  last  remark  up  on  deck 
and  pondered  over  it  in  the  middle  watch,  but 
he  could  make  nothing  out  of  it.  Yet  he  was 
sure  that  Lund  had  meant  something  by  it. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  the  cold  seemed  to 
concentrate.  Rainey  had  found  mittens  in  the 
schooner's  slop-chest,  and  he  was  glad  of  them 
at  the  wheel.  The  sailors,  with  but  little  to  do, 
huddled  forward.  One  man  acted  as  lookout 
for  ice.  The  smell  of  this  was  now  unmistak- 
able even  to  Rainey's  inexperience.  On  certain 
slants  of  wind  a  sharper  edge  would  come  that 
bit  through  ordinary  clothes.  It  was,  he 
thought,  as  if  some  one  had  suddenly  opened 
in  the  dark  the  doors  of  an  enormous  refriger- 
ator. He  knew  what  that  felt  like,  and  this 
was  much  the  same. 

The  weather  was  still  clearing.  In  the  sky 
of  indigo  the  stars  were  glittering  points, 
not  of  gold,  but  steel,  hard  and  cold.  Ahead, 
the  northern  lights  were  projected  above  the 


TAMADA  TALKS  147 

horizon  in  a  low  arch  of  quivering  rose.  And, 
out  of  the  north,  before  the  wind,  the  sea  ad- 
vanced in  the  long,  smooth  folds  of  a  weighty 
swell  over  which  the  Karluk  wore  her  way  into 
the  breeze,  clawing  steadily  on  to  the  Aleutians 
and  a  passage  through  to  Bering  Strait. 

At  two  bells  the  hunters  began  to  come  on 
deck  for  a  breath  or  so  of  fresh  air  after  the 
closeness  of  their  quarters,  as  they  invariably 
did  following  a  poker  session.  They  did  not 
come  aft  or  give  any  greeting  to  Rainey,  but 
walked  briskly  about  in  couples,  discussing 
something  that  Rainey  did  not  doubt  was  the 
next  day's  meeting.  Doubtless,  in  the  confi- 
dence of  their  numbers,  they  considered  it  a 
mere  formality.  Lund  would  take  what  they 
offered — or  nothing.  And  Carlsen  had 
guaranteed  the  skipper's  signature  to  an  agree- 
ment. 

They  got  their  lungs  recharged  with  good 
air,  and  then  the  cold  drove  them  below,  and 
Rainey,  with  the  length  of  the  schooner  be- 
tween him  and  the  watch,  was  practically  alone. 


148          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

He  went  over  and  over  the  situation  as  a  squir- 
rel might  race  around  the  bars  of  his  revolving 
cylinder,  and  came  to  only  one  conclusion,  the 
inevitable  one,  to  let  the  matter  develop  itself. 
Lund's  winning  card  he  had  bothered  about 
until  his  brain  was  tired.  The  only  thing  he 
got  out  of  all  his  fussing  was  the  one  new 
thought  that  seemed  to  fly  out  at  a  tangent  and 
mock  him. 

If  Carlsen  was  deposed,  and  the  skipper  con- 
tinued ill — to  face  the  worst  but  still  plausible 
— if  Carlsen,  being  deposed,  refused  to  act,  and 
the  skipper  was  too  sick  to  leave  his  room — 
who  was  going  to  navigate  the  schooner?  Not 
a  blind  man.  And  Rainey  couldn't  learn  navi- 
gation in  a  day.  There  was  more  to  it  in  these 
perilous  seas  than  mere  reckoning.  Ice  was 
ahead. 

What  could  Lund  make  of  that  ?  Supposing 
that  card  of  his  did  win,  how  could  they  handle 
the  schooner?  He,  in  his  capacity  of  eyes  for 
Lund,  would  be  about  as  competent  as  a  poodle 
trying  to  lead  a  blind  pedler  out  of  a  maze. 


TAMADA  TALKS  149 

The  lookout  broke  in  on  his  mulling  over 
with  a  sudden  shout. 

"Ice!    Ice!    Close  on  the  starboard  bow!" 

Rainey  put  the  helm  over,  throwing  the 
Karluk  on  the  opposite  tack. 

The  berg  slipped  by  them,  not  as  he  had 
imagined  it,  a  thing  of  sparkling  minarets  and 
pinnacles,  but  a  hill  of  snow  that  materialized 
in  the  soft  darkness  and  floated  off  again  to 
dissolution  like  the  ghost  of  an  island,  leaving 
behind  the  bitter  chill  of  death,  rising  and  fall- 
ing until,  in  a  moment,  it  was  gone,  with  its 
threat  of  shipwreck  had  the  night  been  less 
clear. 

Five  times  before  eight  bells  the  cry  came 
from  forward,  and  the  heaps  of  shining  white- 
ness would  take  form,  gather  a  certain  sharp- 
ness of  outline,  and  go  past  the  beam  with  the 
seas  surging  about  them  and  breaking  with  a 
hollow  boom  upon  their  cavernous  sides.  And 
this  was  in  the  open  sea.  Lund  had  suggested 
that  the  strait  would  be  full  of  ice.  Rainey  felt 
his  sailing  experience,  that  he  came  to  be  rather 


150          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

proud  of,  pitifully  limited  and  inadequate  in 
the  face  of  coming  conditions. 

When  he  turned  in  at  last,  despite  his  deter- 
mination to  follow  Lund's  admonition  concern- 
ing sleep,  it  would  not  come  to  him.  Hansen 
had  taken  over  the  deck  stolidly  enough,  with 
no  show  of  misgivings  as  to  his  ability  to 
handle  things,  but  his  words  had  not  been 
cheering  to  Rainey. 

"Plenty  ice  from  now  on,  Mr.  Rainey.  Now 
we  bane  goin'  to  have  one  hard  yob  on  our 
hands,  by  yiminy,  you  an'  me !" 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  POT  SIMMERS 

RAINEYwas  awakened  at  half  past  seven 
by  the  swift  rush  of  men  on  deck  and 
a  confused  shouting.  The  sun  was  shining 
brightly  through  his  porthole  and  then  it  be- 
came suddenly  obscured.  He  looked  out  and 
saw  a  turreted  mass  of  ice  not  half  a  cable's 
length  away  from  the  schooner,  water  cascad- 
ing all  over  its  hills  and  valleys,  that  were 
distinct  enough,  but  so  smoothed  that  the  truth 
flashed  over  him.  Here  was  a  berg  that  had 
suddenly  turned  turtle  and  exposed  its  greater, 
under-water  bulk  to  the  air. 

About  it  the  sea  was  dark  and  vivid  blue,  and 
the  berg  sparkled  in  the  sun  with  prismatic  re- 
flections that  gave  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow 
to  its  prominences,  while  the  bulk  glowed  like 
151 


152          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

a  fire  opal.  Between  it  and  the  schooner  the 
sea  ran  in  a  lasher  of  diminishing  turmoil. 
Hansen  had  carelessly  sailed  too  close.  The 
momentum  of  the  Karluk  and  its  slight  wave 
disturbance  must  have  sufficed  to  upset  the 
equilibrium  of  the  berg,  floating  with  only  a 
third  of  its  bulk  above  the  water.  And  the 
displacement  had  narrowly  missed  the  schoon- 
er's side. 

He  got  a  cup  of  coffee  after  dressing 
warmly,  and  went  up.  Carlsen  and  the  girl 
had  preceded  him  and  were  gazing  at  the  ice- 
berg. The  doctor  seemed  to  be  in  the  same 
rare  vein  of  humor  as  overnight.  Lund  stood 
at  the  rail  with  his  beak  of  a  nose  wrinkled, 
snuffing  toward  the  icy  crags  that  were  spout- 
ing a  dazzle  of  white  flame,  set  about  with 
smaller,  sudden  flares  of  ruby,  emerald  and 
sapphire. 

"Close  shave,  that,  Rainey,"  called  Carlsen. 
"She  turned  turtle  on  us." 

"Too  close  to  be  pleasant,"  said  Rainey,  and 
went  to  the  wheel.  The  girl  had  given  him  a 


THE  POT  SIMMERS  153 

smile,  but  he  marked  her  face  as  weary  from 
sleeplessness  and  strain.  Rainey  left  the  spokes 
in  charge  of  Hansen  for  a  minute — Hansen 
stolid  and  chewing  like  an  automaton,  undis- 
turbed by  the  incident  now  it  had  passed — and 
asked  the  girl  how  her  father  was. 

"I  am  afraid — "  she  began,  then  glanced  at 
Carlsen. 

"He  is  not  at  all  well,"  said  the  doctor, 
facing  Rainey,  his  face  away  from  the  girl. 
As  he  spoke  he  left  his  mouth  open  for  a 
moment,  his  tongue  showing  between  his  white 
teeth,  in  a  grin  that  was  as  mocking  as  that  of 
a  wolf,  mirthless,  ruthless,  triumphant.  And 
for  a  fleeting  second  his  eyes  matched  it. 

Rainey  restrained  a  sudden  desire  to  smash 
his  fist  into  that  sardonic  mask.  This  was  the 
day  of  Carlsen's  anticipated  victory,  the  first 
of  his  calculated  moves  toward  check-mate, 
and  he  was  palpably  enjoying  it. 

"Not  —  at  —  all  —  well,"  repeated  Carlsen 
slowly.  "He  needs  something  to  bring  him  out 
of  himself,  as  he  now  is.  A  little  excitement. 


154          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Yet  he  should  not  be  crossed  in  any  way.  We 
shall  see." 

He  shifted  his  position  and  looked  at  the  girl 
much  as  a  wolf,  not  particularly  hungry,  might 
look  at  a  tethered  lamb.  His  tongue  just 
touched  the  inner  edges  of  his  lips.  It  was  as 
if  the  wolf  had  licked  his  chops. 

"Carlsen  would  be  a  bad  loser,"  Lund  had 
once  said,  "and  a  nasty  winner.  He'd  want  to 
rub  it  in  as  soon  as  he  knew  he  had  you  beat." 

Rainey  gripped  the  spokes  hard  until  he  felt 
the  pressure  of  his  bones  against  the  wood. 
Carlsen's  attitude  had  had  one  good  effect.  His 
nervousness  had  disappeared,  and  a  cold  rage 
taken,  its  place.  He  could  cheerfully  have 
attempted  to  throttle  Carlsen  without  fear  of 
his  gun.  For  that  matter,  he  had  faced  the 
pistol  once  and  come  off  best.  What  a  fool  he 
had  been,  though,  to  let  Carlsen  regain  his 
automatic !  Now  he  was  anxious  for  the  land- 
fall, keen  for  the  show-down. 

Far  on  the  horizon,  northward,  he  sighted 


THE  POT  SIMMERS  155 

glimmering  flashes  of  milky  whiteness  that 
came  and  went  to  the  swing  of  the  schooner. 
This  could  not  be  land,  he  decided,  or  they 
would  have  announced  it.  It  was  ice,  pack-ice, 
or  floes.  He  tried  to  recollect  all  that  he  had 
heard  or  read  of  Arctic  voyages,  and  succeeded 
only  in  comprehending  his  own  ignorance.  Of 
the  rapidly  changing  conditions  the  commonest 
sailor  aboard  knew  more  than  he.  Blind  Lund, 
sniffing  to  windward,  smelled  and  heard  far 
more  than  he  could  rightfully  imagine. 

Tamada  appeared  and  announced  breakfast. 

"You'll  be  coming  later,  Rainey?"  asked 
'  Carlsen.  "You  and  Lund  ?" 

He  started  for  the  companionway  and  the 
girl  followed.  As  she  passed  the  wheel  Rainey 
spoke  to  her : 

"I  am  sorry  your  father  is  worse,  Miss 
Simms,"  he  said. 

She  looked  at  him  with  eyes  that  were  filled 
with  sadness,  that  seemed  liquid  with  tears 
bravely  held  back. 


156          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"I  am  afraid  he  is  dying,"  she  answered  in  a 
low  voice.  "Thank  you,  for  you  sympathy. 
I—" 

She  stopped  at  some  slight  sound  that 
Rainey  did  not  catch.  But  he  saw  the  face  of 
Carlsen  framed  in  the  shadow  of  the  com- 
panion, his  mouth  open  in  the  wolf  grin,  and 
the  man's  eyes  were  gleaming  crimson.  He 
held  up  a  hand  for  the  girl.  She  passed  down 
without  taking  it. 

Lund  came  over  to  Rainey. 

"Clear  weather,  they  tell  me?"  he  said. 
"That's  unusual.  Fog  off  the  Aleutians  three 
hundred  an'  fifty  days  of  the  year,  as  a  rule. 
Soon  as  we  sight  land,  which'll  be  Unalaska 
or  thereabouts,  he'll  have  the  course  changed. 
There's  a  considerable  fleet  of  United  States 
revenue  cutters  at  Unalaska,  an'  Carlsen  won't 
pull  enny thing  until  we're  well  west  of  there. 
He's  pretty  cocky  this  mornin'.  Wai,  we'll 
see." 

There  had  always  been  a  certain  rollicking 
good-humor  about  Lund.  This  morning  he 


THE  POT  SIMMERS  157 

was  grim,  his  face,  with  its  beak  of  a  nose  and 
aggressive  chin  beneath  the  flaming  whiskers, 
and  his  whole  magnificent  body  gave  the  im- 
pression of  resolve  and  repressed  action. 
Rainey  fancied  whimsically  that  he  could  hear 
a  dynamo  purring  inside  of  the  giant's  mas- 
siveness.  He  had  seen  him  in  open  rage  when 
he  had  first  denounced  Honest  Simms,  but  the 
serious  mood  was  far  more  impressive. 

The  big  man  stepped  like  a  great  cat,  his 
head  was  thrust  slightly  forward,  his  great 
hands  were  half  open.  One  forgot  his  blind- 
ness. Despite  the  unsightly  black  lenses,  Lund 
appeared  so  absolutely  prepared  and,  in  a 
different  way,  fully  as  confident  as  Carlsen.  A 
certain  audacious  assurance  seemed  to  ooze  out 
of  him,  to  permeate  his  neighborhood,  and  a 
measure  of  it  extended  to  Rainey. 

"We'll  sight  Makushin  first,"  muttered 
Lund,  as  if  to  himself. 

"Makushin?" 

"Volcano,  fifty-seven  hundred  feet  high. 
Much  ice  in  sight?" 


158          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Rainey  described  the  horizon. 

"All  fresh-water  ice,"  said  Lund.  "An* 
melting." 

"Melting?  It  must  be  way  below  freezing," 
said  Rainey.  Lund  chuckled. 

"This  ain't  cold,  matey.  Wait  till  we  git 
north.  Never  saw  it  lower  than  five  above  in 
Unalaska  in  my  life.  It's  the  rainiest  spot  in 
the  U.  S.  A.  Rains  two  days  out  of  three, 
reg'lar.  This  ice  is  comin'  out  of  the  strait. 
Sure  sign  it's  breakin'  up.  The  winter  freeze 
ain't  due  for  six  weeks  yet." 

Carlsen,  before  he  went  below,  had  sent  a 
man  into  the  fore-spreaders,  and  now  he 
shouted,  cupping  his  hands  and  sounding  his 
news  as  if  it  had  been  a  call  to  arms. 

"Land-hoi" 

"What  is  it?"  called  Rainey  back. 

"High  peak,  sir.  Dead  ahead!  Clouds  on 
it,  or  smoke." 

He  came  sliding  down  the  halyards  to  the 
deck  as  Lund  said:  "That'll  be  Makushin. 
Now  the  fun'll  commence." 


THE  POT  SIMMERS  159 

From  below  the  sailors  off  watch  came  up 
on  deck,  and  the  hunters,  the  latter  wiping  their 
mouths,  fresh  from  their  interrupted  breakfast, 
all  crowding  forward  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the 
land.  Rainey  kept  on  the  course,  heading  for 
the  far-off  volcano.  Minutes  passed  before 
Carlsen  came  on  deck.  He  had  not  hurried  his 
meal. 

"I'll  take  her  over,  Rainey,"  he  said  briefly. 

Rainey  and  Lund  were  barely  seated  before 
the  heeling  of  the  schooner  and  the  scuffle  of 
feet  told  of  Lund's  prophesied  change  of 
course.  Rainey  looked  at  the  telltale  compass 
above  his  head. 

"Heading  due  west,"  he  told  Lund. 

"West  it  is,"  said  the  giant.  "More  coffee, 
Tamada.  Fill  your  belly,  Rainey.  Get  a  good 
meal  while  the  eatin'  is  good." 

Although  it  was  Hansen's  watch  below, 
Rainey  found  him  at  the  wheel  instead  of  the 
seaman  he  had  left  there.  Carlsen  came  up  to 
him  smiling. 

"Better    let    Hansen    have    the    deck,    Mr. 


160          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Rainey,"  he  said.  "We're  going  to  have  a  con- 
ference in  the  cabin  at  four  bells,  and  I'd  like 
you  to  be  present." 

"All  right,  sir,"  Rainey  answered,  getting 
a  thrill  at  this  first  actual  intimation  of  the 
meeting.  Hansen,  it  seemed,  was  not  to  be  one 
of  the  representatives  of  the  seamen.  And 
Carlsen  had  been  smart  enough  to  forestall 
Lund's  demand  for  Rainey  by  taking  some  of 
the  wind  out  of  the  giant's  sails  and  doing  the 
unexpected.  Unless  the  hunters  had  suggested 
that  Rainey  be  present.  But  that  was  hardly 
likely,  considering  that  he  was  to  be  left  out 
of  the  deal. 

"In  just  what  capacity  are  you  callin'  this 
conference?"  Lund  asked,  when  Carlsen  noti- 
fied him  in  turn.  "The  skipper  ain't  dead  is 
he?" 

"I  represent  the  captain,  Lund,"  replied  the 
doctor.  "He  entirely  approves  of  what  I  am 
about  to  suggest  to  you  and  the  men.  In  fact 
I  have  his  signature  to  a  document  that  I  hope 
you  will  sign  also.  It  will  be  greatly  to  your 


THE  POT  SIMMERS  161 

interest  to  do  so.  I  am  in  present  charge  of 
the  Karluk." 

"You  ain't  a  reg'lar  member  of  this  expedi- 
tion/' objected  Lund  stolidly.  "Neither  am  I 
a  member  of  the  crew,  just  now.  But  the 
skipper's  my  partner  in  this  deal,  signed,  sealed 
and  recorded.  Afore  I  go  to  enny  meetin'  I'd 
like  to  have  a  talk  with  him  personally.  Thet's 
fair  enough,  ain't  it  ?" 

Several  of  the  hunters  had  gathered  about, 
and  Lund's  question  seemed  a  general  appeal. 
Carlsen  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"If  you  had  your  eyesight,"  he  said  almost 
brutally,  "you  could  soon  see  that  the  skipper 
was  in  no  condition  to  discuss  matters,  much 
less  be  present." 

"Here's  my  eyesight,"  countered  Lund.  "Mr. 
Rainey  here.  Let  him  see  the  skipper  and  ask 
him  a  question  or  two." 

"What  kind  of  question?  I'm  asking  as 
his  doctor,  Lund." 

"For  one  thing  if  he's  read  the  paper  you 
say  he  signed.  I  want  to  be  sure  of  that.  An' 


162          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

I  don't  make  it  enny  of  yofe  bizness,  Carlsen, 
what  I  want  to  say  to  my  partner,  by  proxy  or 
otherwise.  Second  thing,  I'd  like  to  be  sure 
he's  still  alive.  As  for  yore  standin'  as  his 
doctor,  all  I've  got  to  say  is  that  yo're  a 
damned  pore  doctor,  so  fur  as  the  skipper's 
concerned,  ennyway." 

The  two  men  stood  facing  each  other,  Carl- 
sen  looking  evilly  at  the  giant,  whose  black 
glasses  warded  off  his  glance.  It  was  wasting 
looks  to  glare  at  a  blind  man.  Equally  to  sneer. 
But  the  bout  between  the  two  was  timed  now, 
and  both  were  casting  aside  any  veneer  of 
diplomacy,  their  enmity  manifesting  itself  in 
the  raw.  The  issue  was  growing  tense. 

Rainey  fancied  that  Carlsen  was  not  entirely 
sure  of  his  following,  and  relied  upon  Lund's 
indignant  refusal  of  terms  to  back  up  his  plans 
of  getting  rid  of  him  decisively. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  SHOW-DOWN 

can  see  the  skipper,"  said  Carl- 
sen  carelessly. 

"All  right,"  said  Lund.  "Will  you  do  that, 
Rainey?  Now?"  And  Rainey  had  a  fleeting 
fancy  that  the  giant  winked  one  of  his  blind 
eyes  at  him,  though  the  black  lenses  were  de- 
ceiving. 

He  went  below  immediately  and  rapped  on 
the  door,  a  little  surprised  to  see  the  girl  appear 
in  the  opening.  He  had  expected  to  find  the 
skipper  alone,  and  he  was  pretty  sure  that 
Carlsen  had  also  expected  this.  The  drawn 
expression  of  her  face,  the  strained  faint  smile 
with  which  she  greeted  him,  the  hopeless  look 
in  her  eyes,  startled  him. 

"I  wanted  to  see  your  father,"  he  said  in  a 
low  voice. 

She  told  him  to  enter. 
163 


164          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Captain  Simms  was  lying  in  his  bunk,  ap- 
parently fully  dressed,  with  the  exception  of 
his  shoes.  His  cheeks  had  sunken,  dark  hol- 
lows showed  under  his  closed  eyes,  the  bones 
of  his  skull  projected,  and  his  flesh  was  the 
color  of  clay.  Rainey  believed  that  he  was  in 
the  presence  of  death  itself.  He  looked  at  the 
girl. 

"He  is  in  a  stupor,"  she  said.  "He  has  been 
that  way  since  last  night,  following  a  collapse. 
I  can  barely  find  his  pulse,  but  his  breath  shows 
on  this." 

She  produced  a  small  mirror,  little  larger 
than  a  dollar,  and  held  it  before  her  father's 
lips.  When  she  took  it  away  Rainey  saw  a 
trace  of  moisture. 

"Carlsen  can  not  rouse  him  ?"  he  asked. 

"Can  not — or  will  not,"  she  answered  in  a 
voice  that  held  a  hard  quality  for  all  its  de- 
spondency. Rainey  glanced  at  the  door.  It 
was  shut. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  he  asked, 
speaking  low. 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  165 

She  looked  at  him  as  if  measuring  his  de- 
pendency. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered  dully.  "I 
wish  I  did.  Father's  illness  started  with  sci- 
atica, through  exposure  to  the  cold  and  damp. 
It  was  better  during  the  time  the  Karluk  was 
in  San  Francisco  though  he  had  some  severe 
attacks.  He  said  that  Doctor  Carlsen  gave  him 
relief.  I  know  that  he  did,  for  there  were  days 
at  first  when  father  had  to  stay  in  bed  from 
the  pain.  It  was  in  his  left  leg,  and  then  it 
showed  in  frightful  headaches,  and  he  com- 
plained of  pain  about  the  heart.  But  he  was 
bent  on  the  voyage,  and  Doctor  Carlsen  guar- 
anteed he  could  pull  him  through.  But — lately 
— the  doctor  has  seemed  uncertain.  He  talks 
of  perverted  nerve  functions,  and  he  has  ob- 
tained a  tremendous  influence  over  father. 

"You  heard  what  he  said  when — the  night 
he  tried  to  shoot  you  ?  You  see,  I  am  trusting 
you  in  all  this,  Mr.  Rainey.  I  must  trust  some 
one.  If  I  don't  I  can't  stand  it  I  think  I  shall 
go  mad  sometimes.  The  doctor  has  changed. 


166          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

It  is  as  if  he  was  a  dual  personality — like  Jekyll 
and  Hyde — and  now  he  is  always  Hyde.  It  is 
the  gold  that  has  turned  his  brain,  his  whole 
behavior  from  what  he  was  in  California  be- 
fore father  returned  and  he  learned  of  the 
island.  He  said  last  night  that  he  could  save 
father  or — or — that  he  would  let  father  die. 
I  told  him  it  was  sheer  murder!  He  laughed. 
He  said  he  would  save  him — for  a  price." 

She  stopped,  and  Rainey  supplied  the  gap, 
sure  that  he  was  right. 

"If  you  would  marry  him?" 

The  girl  nodded.  "Father  will  do  anything 
he  tells  him.  I  sometimes  think  he  tortures 
father  and  only  relieves  him  when  father 
promises  what  he  wants.  Otherwise  I  could 
not  understand.  Last  night  father  asked  me 
to  do  this  thing.  Not  because  of  any  threat 
— he  did  not  seem  conscious  of  anything  un- 
derhanded. He  told  me  he  looked  upon  the 
doctor  as  a  son,  that  it  would  make  him  happy 
for  me  to  marry  him — now.  That  he  would 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  167 

perform  the  ceremony.  That  he  did  not  think 
he  would  live  long  and  he  wanted  to  see  me 
with  a  protector. 

"It  was  horrible.  I  dare  not  hint  anything 
against  the  doctor.  It  brings  on  a  nervous  at- 
tack. Last  night  my  refusal  caused  convul- 
sions, and  then — the  collapse !  What  can  I  do  ? 
If  I  made  the  sacrifice  how  can  I  tell  that  Doc- 
tor Carlsen  could — -would  save  him?  What 
shall  I  do?" 

She  was  in  an  agony  of  self -questioning,  of 
doubt. 

"To  see  him  lie  there — like  that.  I  can  not 
bear  it." 

"Miss  Simms,"  said  Rainey,  "your  father 
is  not  in  his  right  mind  or  he  would  see  Carl- 
sen  as  you  do,  as  I  do.  Carlsen's  brain  is 
turned  with  the  lure  of  the  gold.  If  he  mar- 
ries you,  I  believe  it  is  only  for  your  share,  for 
what  you  will  get  from  your  father.  It  can 
not  be  right  to  do  a  wrong  thing.  No  good 
could  come  from  it.  But — something  may 


168          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

happen  this  morning — I  can  not  tell  you  what. 
I  do  not  know,  except  that  Lund  is  to  face 
Carlsen.  It  may  change  matters." 

"Lund,"  she  said  scornfully.  "What  can  he 
do?  And  he  accused  my  father  of  deserting 
him.  I—" 

A  knock  came  at  the  door,  and  it  started  to 
open.  Carlsen  entered. 

"Ah,"  he  said.  "I  trust  I  have  not  dis- 
turbed you.  I  had  no  idea  I  should  interrupt 
a  tete-a-tete.  Are  you  satisfied  as  to  the  cap- 
tain's condition,  Mr.  Rainey?" 

Rainey  looked  the  scoffing  devil  full  in  his 
eyes,  and  hot  scorn  mounted  to  his  own  so 
swiftly  that  Carlsen's  hand  fell  away  from  the 
door  jamb  toward  his  hip.  Then  he  laughed 
softly. 

"We  may  be  able  to  bring  him  round,  all 
right  again,  who  knows  ?"  he  said. 

Rainey  went  on  deck,  raging  but  impotent. 
He  told  Lund  briefly  of  the  talk  between  him 
and  Peggy  Simms,  and  described  the  general 
symptoms  of  the  skipper's  strange  malady.  It 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  169 

was  nine  o'clock,  an  hour  to  the  meeting.  He 
went  down  to  his  own  room  and  sat  on  the 
bunk,  smoking,  trying  to  piece  up  the  puzzle. 
If  Carlsen  was  a  potential  murderer,  if  he  in- 
tended to  let  Simms  die,  why  should  he  want 
to  marry  the  girl  ?  He  thought  he  solved  that 
issue. 

As  his  wife  Carlsen  would  retain  her  share. 
If  he  gave  her  up,  it  would  go  into  the  com- 
mon purse.  But,  if  he  expected  to  trick  the 
men  out  of  it  all,  that  would  be  unnecessary. 
Did  he  really  love  the  girl?  Or  was  his  lust 
for  gold  mingled  with  a  passion  for  possession 
of  her?  He  might  know  that  the  girl  would 
kill  herself  before  she  would  submit  to  dis- 
honor. Perhaps  he  knew  she  had  the  means! 

One  thing  became  paramount.  To  save 
Peggy  Simms.  Lund  might  fight  for  the  gold ; 
Rainey  would  battle  for  the  girl's  sanctity. 
And,  armed  with  that  resolve,  Rainey  went  out 
into  the  main  cabin. 

Carlsen  took  the  head  of  the  table.  Lund 
faced  him  at  the  other  end.  All  six  of  the 


170          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

hunters,  as  privileged  characters,  were  present, 
but  only  three  of  the  seamen,  awkward  and 
diffident  at  being  aft.  The  nine,  with  Rainey, 
ranged  themselves  on  either  side  of  the  table, 
five  and  five,  with  Rainey  on  Lund's  right. 

Tamada  had  brought  liquor  and  glasses 
and  cigars,  and  gone  forward.  The  door  be- 
tween the  main  cabin  and  the  corridor  leading 
to  the  galley  was  locked  after  him  by  Deming. 
The  girl  was  not  present.  Yet  her  share  was 
an  important  factor. 

Lund  sat  with  folded  arms,  his  great  body 
relaxed.  Now  that  the  table  was  set,  the  cards 
all  dealt,  and  the  first  play  about  to  be  made, 
the  giant  shed  his  tenseness.  Even  his  grim 
face  softened  a  trifle.  He  seemed  to  regard 
the  affair  with  a  certain  amount  of  humor, 
coupled  with  the  zest  of  a  gambler  who  loves 
the  game  whether  the  stakes  are  for  death  or 
dollars. 

Carlsen  had  a  paper  under  his  hand,  but 
deferred  its  reading  until  he  had  addressed  the 
meeting. 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  171 

"A  ship,"  he  said,  "is  a  little  community,  a 
world  in  itself.  To  its  safety  every  member 
is  a  necessity,  the  lookout  as  much  as  the  man 
at  the  wheel,  the  common  seaman,  the  navi- 
gator. And,  when  a  ship  is  engaged  in  a  cer- 
tain calling,  those  who  are  hired  as  experts 
in  that  line  are  equally  essential  with  the  rest." 

"All  the  way  from  captain  to — cook?" 
drawled  Lund. 

"Each  depends  upon  his  comrade's  fulfil- 
ment of  duty,"  went  on  Carlsen.  "So  an  abso- 
lute equality  is  evolved.  Each  man's  respon- 
sibility being  equal,  his  reward  should  be  also 
equal.  It  seems  to  me  that  this  status  of  af- 
fairs is  arrived  at  more  naturally  aboard  the 
Karluk  than  it  might  be  elsewhere.  We  are  a 
small  company,  and  not  easily  divided.  The 
will  of  the  majority  may  easily  become  that 
of  all,  may  easily  be  applied. 

"Payment  for  all  services  comes  on  this 
voyage  from  an  uncertain  amount  of  gold  that 
Nature,  Mother  of  us  all,  and  therefore  intend- 
ing that  all  her  children  shall  share  her  heri- 


172          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

tage,  has  washed  up  on  a  beach  from  some 
deep-sea  vein  and  thus  deposited  upon  an  un- 
charted, unclaimed  island.  It  is  discovered 
by  an  Indian,  the  discovery  is  handed  on  to 
another." 

"Meanin'  me."  Lund  seemed  to  be  enjoying 
himself.  Despite  the  fact  that  Carlsen  was 
presiding  and  most  evidently  assumed  the  at- 
tributes of  leader,  despite  the  fact  that  ten  of 
the  twelve  at  the  table  were  arrayed  against 
him,  with  the  rest  of  the  seamen  behind  them, 
Lund  was  decidedly  enjoying  himself. 

To  Rainey,  the-  matter  of  the  gold  was  but  a 
mask  for  the  license  that  would  inevitably  be 
manifested  in  such  a  crude  democracy  if  it  was 
established,  a  license  that  threatened  the  girl, 
now,  he  imagined,  watching  her  father,  the 
captain  of  the  vessel,  tottering  on  the  verge  of 
death.  His  pulses  raced,  he  longed  for  the 
climax. 

"This  gold,"  went  on  Carlsen,  "  is  not  a  com- 
modity made  in  a  factory,  obtained  through  the 
toil  of  others,  through  the  expenditure  of  cap- 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  173 

ital.  If  it  were,  it  would  not  alter  the  principle 
of  the  thing.  It  is  of  nature's  own  providing 
for  those  of  her  sons  who  shall  find  it  and 
gather  it.  Sons  that,  as  brothers,  must  will- 
ingly share  and  share  alike." 

Lund  yawned,  showing  his  strong  teeth  and 
the  red  cavern  of  his  mouth.  The  hunters 
gazed  at  him  curiously.  The  seamen,  lacking 
initiative,  lacking  imagination,  a  crude  col- 
lection of  water-front  drifters,  more  or  less 
wrecked  specimens  of  humanity  who  went  to 
sea  because  they  had  no  other  capacity — were 
apathetic,  listening  to  Carlsen  with  a  sort  of 
awe,  a  hypnosis  before  his  argument  that  street 
rabble  exhibit  before  the  jargon  of  a  soap-box 
orator. 

Carlsen  promised  them  something,  therefore 
they  followed  him.  But  the  hunters,  more  in- 
dependent, more  intelligent,  seemed  expecting 
an  outburst  from  Lund  and,  because  it  was  not 
forthcoming,  they  were  a  little  uneasy. 

"Share  and  share  alike,"  said  Lund.  "I've 
got  yore  drift,  Carlsen.  Let's  get  down  to 


174          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

brass  tacks.  The  idea  is  to  divvy  the  gold  into 
equal  parts,  ain't  it?  How  does  she  split? 
There's  twenty-five  souls  aboard.  Does  that 
mean  you  split  the  heap  into  a  hundred  parts 
an'  each  one  gits  four?" 

"No."  It  was  Deming  who  answered.  "It 
don't.  The  Jap  don't  come  in,  for  one." 

"A  cook  ain't  a  brother?" 

"Not  when  he's  got  a  yellow  skin,"  answered 
Deming.  "We'll  take  up  a  collection  for 
Sandy.  Rainey  ain't  in  on  the  deal.  We  split 
it  just  twenty-two  ways.  What  have  you  got 
to  say  about  it  ?" 

His  tone  was  truculent,  and  Carlsen  did  not 
appear  disposed  to  check  him.  He  appeared 
not  quite  certain  of  the  temper  of  the  hunters. 
Deming,  like  Rainey,  evidently  chafed  under 
the  preliminaries. 

"You  figger  we're  all  equal  aboard,"  said 
Lund  slowly,  "leavin'  out  Mr.  Rainey,  Tamada 
an'  Sandy.  You  an'  me,  an'  Carlsen  an'  Harris 
there" — he  nodded  toward  one  of  the  seaman 
delegates  who  listened  with  his  slack  mouth 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  175 

agape,  scratching  himself  under  the  armpit — 
"are  all  equal?" 

Deming  cast  a  glance  at  Harris  and,  for  just 
a  moment,  hesitated. 

Harris  squirming  under  the  look  of  Deming, 
which  was  aped  by  the  sudden  scrutiny  of  all 
the  hunters,  found  speech :  "How  in  hell  did 
you  know  I  was  here?"  he  demanded  of  Lund. 
"I  ain't  opened  my  mouth  yit !" 

"That  ain't  the  truth,  Harris,"  replied  Lund 
composedly.  "It's  allus  open.  But  if  you  want 
to  know,  I  smelled  ye." 

There  was  a  guffaw  at  the  sally.  Carlsen's 
voice  stopped  it. 

"I'll  answer  the  question,  Lund.  Yes,  we're 
all  equal.  The  world  is  not  a  democracy. 
Harris,  so  far,  hasn't  had  a  chance  to  get  the 
equal  share  that  belongs  to  him  by  rights. 
That's  what  I  meant  by  saying  that  the  Karluk 
was  a  little  world  of  its  own.  We're  all  equal 
on  board." 

"Except  Rainey,  Tamada  an'  Sandy.  Seems 
to  me  yore  argumint's  got  holes  in  it,  Carlsen." 


176          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"We  are  waiting  to  know  whether  you  agree 
with  us?"  replied  Carlsen.  His  voice  had 
altered  quality.  It  held  the  direct  challenge. 
Lund  accepted  it. 

"I  don't,"  he  answered  dryly.  "There  ain't 
enny  one  of  you  my  equal,  an'  you've  showed 
it.  There  ain't  enny  one  of  you,  from  Carlsen 
to  Harris,  who'd  have  the  nerve  to  put  it  up 
to  me  alone.  You  had  to  band  together  in  a 
pack,  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  with  Carlsen  for 
sheepherder.  I'm  talking"  he  went  on  in  a  tone 
that  suddenly  leaped  to  thunder.  "None  of 
you  have  got  the  brains  of  Carlsen,  becoz  he 
had  to  put  this  scheme  inter  yore  noddles. 
Deming,  you  think  yo're  a  better  man  than 
Harris,  you  know  damn'  well  you  play  better 
poker  than  the  rest,  an'  you  agreed  to  this 
becoz  you  figger  you'll  win  most  of  the  gold 
afore  the  v'yage  is  over.  The  rest  of  you 
suckers  listened  becoz  some  one  tells  you  you 
are  goin'  to  get  more  than  what's  rightly  comin' 
to  you. 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  177 

"This  gold  is  mine  by  right  of  discovery.  I 
lose  my  ship  through  bad  luck,  an'  I  make  a 
deal  whereby  the  skipper  gets  the  same  as  I  do, 
an'  the  ship,  which  is  the  same  as  his  daughter, 
gets  almost  as  much.  You  men  were  offered  a 
share  on  top  of  yore  wages  if  you  wanted  to 
take  the  chance — two  shares  to  the  hunters. 
It  was  damned  liberal,  an'  you  grabbed  at  it. 
I  got  left  on  the  ice,  blind  on  a  breakin'  floe,  an' 
you  sailed  off  an'  grabbed  a  handful  or  so  of 
gold,  enough  to  set  you  crazy. 

"What  in  blazes  would  you  know  what  to  do 
with  it,  enny  of  you?  Spill  it  all  along  the 
Barb'ry  Coast,  or  gamble  it  off  to  Deming.  Is 
there  one  of  you  'ud  have  got  off  thet  floe  an', 
blind  as  I  was,  turned  up  ag'in  ?  Not  one  of  ye. 
An'  when  I  did  show  you  got  sore  becoz  you'd 
figgered  there  'ud  be  more  with  me  away. 

"A  fine  lot  of  skunks.  You  can  take  yore 
damned  bit  of  paper  an'  light  yore  pipes  with 
it,  for  all  of  me.  To  hell  with  it! 

"Shut  up!"  His  voice  topped  the  murmurs 
at  the  table.  Rainey  saw  Carlsen  sitting  back 


178          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

with  his  tongue-tip  showing  in  a  grin,  tapping 
the  table  with  the  folded  paper  in  one  hand, 
the  other  in  his  lap,  leaning  back  a  little.  He 
was  like  a  man  waiting  for  the  last  bet  to  be 
made  before  he  exposed  the  winning  hand. 

"As  for  bein'  equal,  I've  told  you  Carlsen's 
got  the  brains  of  you  all.  The  skipper's  dyin', 
Carlsen  expects  to  marry  his  gal.  An'  he 
figgers  thet  way  on  pullin'  down  three  shares  to 
yore  one.  You  say  Rainey  ain't  in  on  the  deal. 
He's  as  much  so  as  Carlsen.  Carlsen  butts  in 
as  a  doctor  an'  a  fine  job  he's  made  of  it.  Skip- 
per nigh  dead.  A  hell  of  a  doctor!  Smoke  up, 
all  of  you." 

Carlsen  sat  quiet,  sometimes  licking  his  lips 
gently,  listening  to  Lund  as  he  might  have 
listened  to  the  rantings  of  a  melodramatic 
actor.  But  Rainey  sensed  that  he  was  making 
a  mistake.  He  was  letting  Lund  go  too  far. 
The  men  were  listening  to  Lund,  and  he  knew 
that  the  giant  was  talking  for  a  specific  pur- 
pose. Just  to  what  end  he  could  not  guess. 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  179 

The  big  booming  voice  held  them,  while  it 
lashed  them. 

"Equal  to  me?  Bah!  I'm  a  man.  Yo're 
a  lot  of  fools.  Talk  about  me  bein'  blind.  It 
was  ice-blink  got  me.  Then  ophthalmy  mat- 
term'  up  my  eyes.  It's  gold-blink's  got  you. 
Yo're  cave-fish,  a  lot  of  blind  suckers." 

He  leaned  over  the  table  pointing  a  massive 
square  finger,  thatched  with  red  wool,  direct  at 
Carlsen,  as  if  he  had  been  leveling  a  weapon. 

"Carlsen's  a  fake !  He's  got  you  hipped.  He 
thinks  he's  boss,  becoz  he's  the  only  navigator 
of  yore  crowd.  I  ain't  overlooked  that  card, 
Carlsen.  That  ain't  the  only  string  he's  got 
on  ye.  Nor  the  three  shares  he  expects  to  pull 
down.  He  made  you  pore  suckers  fire  off  all 
your  shells ;  he  found  out  you  ain't  got  a  gun 
left  among  you  that's  enny  more  use  than  a 
club.  He's  got  a  gun  an'  he  showed  you  how  he 
could  use  it.  He's  sittin'  back  larfin'  at  the 
bunch  of  you!" 

The  men  stirred.    Rainey  saw  Carlsen's  grin 


180          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

disappear.  He  dropped  the  paper.  His  face 
paled,  the  veins  showed  suddenly  like  purple 
veins  in  dirty  marble. 

"I've  got  that  gun  yet,  Lund,"  he  snarled. 

Lund  laughed,  the  ring  of  it  so  confident 
that  the  men  glanced  from  him  to  Carlsen 
nervously. 

"Yo're  a  fake,  Carlsen,"  he  said.  "And  I've 
got  yore  number!  To  hell  with  you  an'  yore 
pop-gun.  You  ain't  even  a  doctor.  I  saw  real 
doctors  ashore  about  my  eyes.  Niphablepsia, 
they  call  snow-blindness.  I'll  bet  you  never 
heard  of  it.  Yo're  only  a  woman-conning 
dope-shooter!  Else  you'd  have  known  that 
niphablepsia  ain't  permanent!  I've  bin'  gettin' 
my  sight  back  ever  sence  I  left  Seattle.  An' 
now,  damn  you  for  a  moldy  hearted,  slimy 
souled  fakir,  stand  up  an'  say  yo're  my  equal !" 

He  stood  up  himself,  towering  above  the 
rest  as  they  rose  from  their  chairs,  tearing  the 
black  glasses  from  his  eyes  and  flinging  them 
at  Carlsen,  who  was  forced  to  throw  up  a  hand 
to  ward  them  off.  Rainey  got  one  glimpse  of 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  181 

the  giant's  eyes.     They  were   gray-blue,   the 
color  of  agate-ware,  hard  as  steel,  implacable. 

Carlsen  swept  aside  the  spectacles  and  they 
shattered  on  the  floor  as  he  leaped  up  and  the 
automatic  shone  in  his  hand.  Lund  had  folded 
his  arms  above  his  great  chest.  He  laughed 
again,  and  his  arms  opened. 

In  an  instant  Rainey  caught  the  object  of 
Lund's  speech-making.  He  had  done  it  to  en- 
rage Carlsen  beyond  endurance,  to  make  him 
draw  his  gun.  Giant  as  he  was,  he  moved  with 
the  grace  of  a  panther,  with  a  swiftness  too 
fast  for  the  eye  to  register.  Something  flashed 
in  his  right  hand,  a  gun,  that  he  had  drawn 
from  a  holster  slung  over  his  left  breast. 

The  shots  blended.  Lund  stood  there  erect, 
uninjured.  A  red  blotch  showed  between  Carl- 
sen's  eyes.  He  slumped  down  into  his  chair, 
his  arms  clubbing  the  table,  his  gun  falling 
from  his  nerveless  hand,  his  forehead  striking 
the  wood  like  the  sound  of  an  auctioneer's 
gavel.  Lund  had  beaten  him  to  the  draw. 
Lund,  no  longer  a  blind  Samson,  with  con- 


182          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

tempt  in  his  agate  eyes,  surveyed  the  scattering 
group  of  men  who  stared  at  the  dead  man 
dully,  as  if  gripped  by  the  exhibition  of  a 
miracle. 

"It's  all  right,  Miss  Simms,"  he  said.  "Jest 
killed  a  skunk.  Rainey,  git  that  gun  an'  attend 
to  the  young  lady,  will  you?" 

The  girl  stood  in  the  doorway  of  her  father's 
cabin,  her  face  frozen  to  horror,  her  eyes  fixed 
on  Lund  with  repulsion.  As  Rainey  got  the 
automatic,  slipped  it  into  his  pocket,  and  went 
toward  her,  she  shrank  from  him.  But  her 
voice  was  for  Lund. 

"You  murderer !"  she  cried. 

Lund  grinned  at  her,  but  there  was  no  laugh- 
ter in  his  eyes. 

"We'll  thrash  that  out  later,  miss,"  he  said. 
"Now,  you  men,  jump  for'ard,  all  of  you. 
Deming,  unlock  that  door.  Jump!  Equals, 
are  you?  I'll  show  you  who's  master  on  this 
ship.  Wait!" 

His  voice  snapped  like  the  crack  of  a  whip 
and  they  all  halted,  save  Deming,  who  sullenly 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  183 

fitted  the  key  to  the  lock  of  the  corridor  en- 
trance. 

"Take  this  with  you,"  said  Lund,  pointing 
to  Carlsen's  sagging  body.  "When  you  git 
tired  of  his  company,  throw  him  overboard. 
Jump  to  it !" 

The  nearest  men  took  up  the  body  of  the 
doctor  and  they  all  filed  forward,  silently  obe- 
dient to  the  man  who  ordered  them. 

"They  ain't  all  whipped  yit,"  said  Lund. 
"Not  them  hunters.  They're  still  sufferin' 
from  gold-blink,  but  I'll  clean  their  eyesight 
for  'em.  Look  after  the  lady  an'  her  father, 
Rainey." 

Tamada  entered  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
He  carried  a  tray  of  dishes  and  cutlery  that  he 
laid  down  on  the  table. 

"Never  mind  settin'  a  place  for  Carlsen, 
Tamada,"  said  Lund.  "He's  lost  his  appetite — 
permanent."  The  Oriental's  face  did  not 
change. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  answered. 

The  girl  shuddered.    Rainey  saw  that  Lund 


184          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

was  exhilarated  by  his  victory,  that  the  primi- 
tive fighting  brute  was  prominent.  Carlsen 
had  tried  to  shoot  first,  goaded  to  it ;  his  death 
was  deserved;  but  it  seemed  to  Rainey  that 
Lund's  exhibition  of  savagery  was  unneces- 
sary. But  he  also  saw  that  Lund  would  not 
heed  any  protest  that  he  might  make,  he  was 
still  swept  on  by  his  course  of  action,  not  yet 
complete. 

"I'll  borrow  Carlsen's  sextant,"  said  Lund. 
"Nigh  noon,  an'  erbout  time  I  got  our  reck- 
onin'."  He -went  into  the  doctor's  cabin  and 
came  out  with  the  instrument,  tucking  it  under 
his  arm  as  he  went  on  deck. 

Tamada  went  stolidly  on  with  his  prepara- 
tions. He  paused  at  the  little  puddle  of  blood 
where  Carlsen's  head  had  struck  the  table, 
turned,  and  disappeared  toward  his  galley, 
promptly  emerging  with  a  wet  cloth. 

The  girl  put  her  hands  over  her  eyes  as 
Tamada  methodically  mopped  up  the  tell-tale 
stains. 


THE  SHOW-DOWN  185 

"The  brute!"  she  said.  Then  took  away 
her  hands  and  extended  them  toward  Rainey. 

"What  will  he  do  with  my  father?"  she  said. 
"He  thinks  that  dad  deserted  him.  And  the 
doctor,  who  might  have  saved  him,  is  dead. 
My  God,  what  shall  I  do?  What  shall  I  do?" 

Rainey  found  himself  murmuring  some 
attempts  at  consolation,  a  defense  of  Lund. 

"You  too?"  she  said  with  a  contempt  that, 
unmerited  as  it  was,  stung  Rainey  to  the  quick. 
"You  are  on  his  side.  Oh !" 

She  wheeled  into  her  father's  room  and  shut 
the  door.  Rainey  heard  the  click  of  the  bolt 
on  the  other  side.  Tamada  was  going  on  with 
his  table-laying.  Rainey  saw  that  he  had  left 
Carlsen's  place  vacant.  He  listened  for  a  mo- 
ment, but  heard  nothing  within  the  skipper's 
cabin.  The  swift  rush  of  events  was  still  a 
jumble.  Slowly  he  went  up  the  companionway 
to  the  deck. 


CHAPTER  XI 

HONEST  SIMMS 

END  greeted  Rainey  with  a  curt  nod.  Han- 
sen  was  still  at  the  helm.  The  crew  on 
duty  were  standing  about  alert,  their  eyes  on 
Lund.  They  had  found  a  new  master,  and 
they  were  cowed,  eager  to  do  their  best. 

"It  ain't  noon  yet,"  said  Lund.  "I  hardly 
need  to  shoot  the  sun  with  the  land  that  close." 

Rainey  looked  over  the  starboard  bow  to 
where  a  series  of  peaks  and  lower  humps  of 
dark  blue  proclaimed  the  Aleutian  island  bridge 
stretching  far  to  the  west. 

"I'll  show  this  crew  they've  got  a  skipper 
aboard,"  said  Lund.  "How's  the  cap'en  ?" 

Rainey  told  him. 

"We'll  see  what  we  can  do  for  him,"  said 
Lund.  "He's  better  off  without  that  fakir, 
186 


HONEST  SIMMS  187 

that's  a  cinch.  Called  me  a  murderer,"  he  went 
on  with  a  good-humored  laugh.  "Got  spunk, 
she  has.  And  she's  a  trim  bit.  A  slip  of  a  gal, 
but  she's  game.  An'  good-lookin'  eh,  Rainey  ?" 

He  shot  a  keen  glance  at  the  newspaperman. 

"You're  in  her  bad  hooks,  too,  ain't  ye? 
We'll  fix  that  after  a  bit.  She  don't  know 
when  she's  well  off.  Most  wimmin  don't.  An* 
she's  the  sort  that  needs  handlin'  right.  She's 
upset  now,  natural,  an'  she  hates  me." 

He  smiled  as  if  the  prospect  suited  him.  A 
suspicion  leaped  into  Rainey's  brain.  Lund 
had  said  he  would  not  see  a  decent  girl  harmed. 
But  the  man  was  changed.  He  had  fought 
and  won,  and  victory  shone  in  his  eyes  with  a 
glitter  that  was  immune  from  sympathy,  for 
all  his  air  of  good-nature. 

He  had  said  that  a  man  under  his  skin  was 
just  an  animal.  His  appraisal  of  the  girl 
struck  Rainey  with  apprehension.  "To  the 
victor  belong  the  spoils."  Somehow  the  quota- 
tion persisted.  What  if  Lund  regarded  the  girl 
as  legitimate  loot?  He  might  have  talked 


188          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

differently  beforehand,  to  assure  himself  of 
Rainey's  support. 

And  Rainey  suddenly  felt  as  if  his  support 
had  been  uncalled  upon,  a  frail  reed  at  best. 
Lund  had  not  needed  him,  would  he  need  him, 
save  as  an  aid,  not  altogether  necessary,  with 
Hansen  aboard,  to  run  the  ship  ? 

He  said  nothing,  but  thrust  both  hands  into 
the  side  pockets  of  the  pilot  coat  he  had  ac- 
quired from  the  ship's  stores.  The  sudden 
touch  of  cold  steel  gave  him  new  courage.  He 
had  sworn  to  protect  the  girl.  If  Lund,  seem- 
ing more  like  a  pirate  than  ever,  with  his  cold 
eyes  sweeping  the  horizon,  his  bulk  casting 
Rainey's  into  a  dwarf's  by  comparison,  at- 
tempted to  harm  Peggy  Simms,  Rainey  re- 
solved to  play  the  part  of  champion. 

He  could  not  shoot  like  Lund,  but  he  was 
armed.  There  were  undoubtedly  more  cart- 
ridges in  the  clip.  And  he  must  secure  the  rest 
from  Carlsen's  cabin  immediately. 

The  sun  reached  its  height,  and  Lund  busied 
himself  with  his  sextant.  Rainey  determined 


HONEST  SIMMS  189 

to  ask  him  to  teach  him  the  use  of  it.  His 
consent  or  refusal  would  tell  him  where  he 
stood  with  Lund. 

He  felt  the  mastery  of  the  man.  And  he 
felt  incompetent  beside  him.  Carlsen  had  been 
right.  A  ship  at  sea  was  a  little  world  of  its 
own,  and  Lund  was  now  lord  of  it.  A  lord 
who  would  demand  allegiance  and  enforce  it. 
He  held  the  power  of  life  and  death,  not  by 
brute  force  alone.  He  was  the  only  navigator 
aboard,  with  the  skipper  seriously  ill.  As  such 
alone  he  held  them  in  his  hand,  once  they  were 
out  of  sight  of  land. 

"Hansen,"  said  Lund,  "Mr.  Rainey'll  relieve 
you  after  we've  eaten.  Come  on,  Rainey.  You 
ain't  lost  yore  appetite,  I  hope.  Watch  me 
discard  that  spoon  for  a  knife  an'  fork.  I 
don't  have  to  play  blind  man  enny  longer." 

Food  did  not  appeal  to  Rainey.  He  could 
not  help  thinking  of  the  spot  under  the  cloth 
where  Tamada  had  wiped  up  the  blood  of  the 
man  just  killed  by  Lund,  sitting  opposite  him, 
making  play  for  a  double  helping  of  victuals. 


190          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

It  was  Lund's  apparent  callousness  that 
affected  him  more  than  his  own  squeamishness. 
He  could  not  regret  Carlsen's  death.  With  the 
doctor  alive,  his  own  existence  would  have 
been  a  constant  menace.  But  he  was  not  used 
to  seeing  a  killing,  though,  in  his  water-front 
detail,  he  had  not  been  unacquainted  with  grim 
tragedies  of  the  sea. 

It  was  Lund's  demeanor  that  gripped  him. 
The  giant  had  dismissed  Carlsen  as  uncere- 
moniously as  he  might  have  flipped  the  ash 
from  a  cigar,  or  tossed  the  stub  overside. 

"I've  got  to  tackle  those  hunters,"  Lund 
said.  "I  expect  trouble  there,  sooner  or  later. 
But  I'm  goin'  to  lay  down  the  law  to  'em.  If 
they  come  clean,  well  an'  good,  they  git  their 
original  two  shares.  If  not,  they  don't  get  a 
plugged  nickel.  An'  Deming's  the  one  who'll 
stir  up  the  trouble,  take  it  from  me.  Tell  Han- 
sen  to  turn  in  his  watch-off,  I  shan't  take  a 
deck  for  a  day  or  two,  you'll  have  to  go  on 
handlin'  it  between  you.  I've  got  to  make  my 


HONEST  SIMMS  191 

peace  with  the  gal,  an'  do  what  I  can  with  the 
skipper." 

"She'll  not  make  peace  easily.  But  the 
skipper's  in  a  bad  way." 

Lund  lit  his  pipe. 

"I'd  jest  as  soon  it  was  war.  I  don't  see  as 
we  can  help  the  skipper  much  'less  we  try  re- 
verse treatment  of  what  Carlsen  did.  If  we 
knew  what  that  was?  If  he  gits  worse  she'll 
let  us  know,  I  reckon.  Mebbe  you  can  suggest 
somethin'  ?" 

Rainey  shook  his  head. 

"I  suppose  she  can  do  more  than  any  of  us," 
he  said. 

Lund  nodded,  then  whistled  to  Tamada, 
leaving  the  cabin. 

"Take  a  bottle  of  whisky  to  the  hunters' 
mess,  with  my  compliments.  That'll  give  'em 
about  three  jolts  apiece,"  he  said  to  Rainey. 
"Long  as  we've  won  out  we  may  as  well  let  'em 
down  easy.  But  they'll  work  for  their  shares, 
jest  the  same.  A  drink  or  two  may  help  'em 


192          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

swaller  what  I'm  goin'  to  give  'em  by  way  of 
dessert  in  the  talkin'  line.  See  you  later." 

Rainey  took  the  dismissal  and  went  up  to 
the  relief  of  Hansen.  He  did  not  mention 
what  had  happened  until  the  Scandinavian  re- 
ferred to  it  indirectly. 

"They  put  the  doc  overboard,  sir,  soon's 
Mr.  Lund  an'  you  bane  go  below." 

It  seemed  a  summary  dismissal  of  the  dead, 
without  ceremony.  Yet,  for  the  rite  to  be  au- 
thentic, Lund  must  have  presided,  and  the  sea- 
burial  service  would  have  been  a  mockery  un- 
der the  circumstances.  It  was  the  best  thing 
to  have  done,  Rainey  felt,  but  he  could  not 
avoid  a  mental  shiver  at  the  thought  of  the 
man,  so  lately  vital,  his  brain  alive  with  energy, 
sliding  through  the  cold  water  to  the  ooze  to 
lie  there,  sodden,  swinging  with  the  sub-sea 
currents  until  the  ocean  scavengers  claimed 
him. 

"All  'right,  Hansen,"  he  said  in  answer,  and 
the  man  hurried  off  after  his  extra  detail. 


HONEST  SIMMS  193 

Lund  came  up  after  a  while,  and  Rainey  told 
him  of  the  fate  of  Carlsen's  body. 

"I  figgered  they'd  do  about  that,"  com- 
mented Lund.  "They  savvied  he'd  aimed  to 
make  suckers  out  of  'em,  an'  tliey  dumped  him. 
But  they  ain't  on  our  side,  by  a  long  sight. 
Not  that  I  give  a  damn.  If  they  want  to  sulk, 
let  'em  sulk.  But  they'll  stand  their  watches, 
an',  when  we  git  to  the  beach,  they'll  do  their 
share  of  diggin'.  If  they  need  drivin',  I'll 
drive  'em. 

"That  Deming  is  a  better  man  than  I 
thought.  He's  the  main  grouch  among  'em. 
Said  if  I  hadn't  had  a  gun  he'd  have  tackled 
me  in  the  cabin.  Meant  it,  too,  though  I'd 
have  smashed  him.  He's  sore  becoz  I  said  he 
warn't  my  equal.  I  told  him,  enny  time  he 
wanted  to  try  it  out,  I'd  accommodate  him. 
He  didn't  take  it  up,  an'  they'll  kid  him  about 
it.  He'll  pack  a  grudge.  I  ain't  afraid  of  their 
knifin'  me,  not  while  the  skipper's  sick.  They 
need  me  to  navigate." 


194          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"This  might  be  a  good  chance  for  me  to 
handle  a  sextant,"  suggested  Rainey  casually. 

Lund  shook  his  head,  smiling,  but  his  eyes 
hard. 

"Not  yet,  matey,"  he  said.  "Not  that  I  don't 
trust  you,  but  for  me  to  be  the  only  one,  jest 
now,  is  a  sort  of  life  insurance  that  suits  me  to 
carry.  They  might  figger,  if  you  was  able  to 
navigate,  that  they  c'ud  put  the  screws  on  you 
to  carry  'em  through,  with  me  out  of  the  way. 
I  don't  say  they  could,  but  they  might  make  it 
hard  for  you,  an'  you  ain't  got  quite  the  same 
stake  in  this  I  have." 

Here  was  cold  logic,  but  Rainey  saw  the 
force  of  it.  Hansen  came  up  early  to  split  the 
watch  and  put  their  schedule  right  again,  and 
Lund  went  below  with  Rainey.  Lund  ordered 
Tamada  to  bring  a  bottle  and  glasses,  and  they 
sat  down  at  the  table.  Rainey  needed  the  kick 
of  a  drink,  and  took  one. 

As  Lund  was  raising  his  glass  with  a  toast 
of  "Here's  to  luck,"  the  skipper's  door  opened 
and  the  girl  appeared.  She  looked  like  a  ghost. 


HONEST  SIMMS  195 

Her  hair  was  disheveled  and  her  eyes  stared 
at  them  without  seeming  recognition.  But  she 
spoke,  in  a  flat  toneless  voice. 

"My  father  is  dead!  I — "  she  faltered, 
swayed,  and  seemed  to  swoon  as  she  sank 
toward  the  floor.  Rainey  darted  forward,  but 
Lund  was  quicker  and  swooped  her  up  in  his 
arms  as  if  she  had  been  a  feather,  took  her  to 
the  table,  set  her  in  a  chair,  dabbled  a  napkin  in 
some  water  and  applied  it  to  her  brows. 

"Chafe  her  wrists,"  he  ordered  Rainey. 
"Undo  that  top  button  of  her  blouse.  That's 
enough;  she  ain't  got  on  corsets.  She'll  come 
through.  Plumb  worn  out.  That's  all." 

He  handled  her,  deftly,  as  a  nurse  would  a 
child.  Rainey  chafed  the  slender  wrists  and 
beat  her  palms,  and  soon  she  opened  her  eyes 
and  sighed.  Then  she  pulled  away  from  Lund, 
bending  over  her,  and  got  to  her  feet. 

"I  must  go  to  my  father,"  she  said.  "He  is 
dead." 

They  followed  her  into  the  cabin,  and  Lund 
bent  over  the  bunk. 


196          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Looks  like  it,"  he  whispered  to  Rainey. 
Then  he  tore  open  the  skipper's  vest  and  shirt 
and  laid  his  head  on  his  chest.  The  girl  made 
a  faint  motion  as  if  to  stop  him,  but  did  not 
hinder  him.  She  was  at  the  end  of  her  own 
strength  from  weariness  and  worry.  Lund 
suddenly  raised  his  head. 

"There's  a  flutter,"  he  announced.  "He  ain't 
gone  yit.  Get  Tamada  an'  some  brandy." 

The  Japanese,  by  some  intuition,  was  al- 
ready on  hand,  and  produced  the  brandy. 
Rainey  poured  out  a  measure.  The  captain's 
teeth  were  tightly  clenched.  Lund  spraddled 
one  great  hand  across  his  jaws,  pressing  at 
their  junction,  forcing  them  apart,  firmly,  but 
gently  enough,  while  Rainey  squeezed  in  a  few 
drops  of  brandy  from  the  corner  of  his  soaked 
handkerchief.  Lund  stroked  the  sick  man's 
throat,  and  he  swallowed  automatically. 

"More  brandy,"  ordered  Lund. 

With  the  next  dose  there  came  signs  of  re- 
vival, a  low  moan  from  the  skipper.  The  girl 
flew  to  his  side.  Tamada,  standing  by  with 


HONEST  SIMMS  197 

the  bottle,  stepped  forward,  handed  the  brandy 
to  Rainey,  and  rolled  up  the  lid  of  an  eye, 
looking  closely  at  the  pupil. 

"I  study  medicine  at  Tokio,"  he  said. 

"Why  didn't  ye  say  so  before?"  demanded 
Lund.  It  did  not  occur  to  any  of  them  to 
doubt  Tamada's  word.  There  was  an  air  of 
professional  assurance  and  an  efficiency  about 
him  that  carried  weight.  "What  can  you  do 
for  him?  There's  a  medicine  chest  in  Carl- 
sen's  room." 

"I  was  hired  to  cook,"  said  Tamada  quietly. 
"I  should  not  have  been  permit  to  interfere. 
It  is  not  my  business  if  a  white  man  makes  a 
fool  of  himself.  Now  we  want  morphine  and 
hypodermic  syringe." 

Tamada  rolled  up  the  captain's  sleeve.  The 
flesh,  shrunken,  pallid,  was  closely  spotted  with 
dot-like  scars  that  showed  livid,  as  if  the  cap- 
tain had  been  suffering  from  some  strange 
rash. 

Lund  whistled  softly.  Rainey,  too,  knew 
what  it  meant.  The  skipper  had  been  a  veri- 


198          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

table  slave  to  the  drug.  Carlsen  had  admin- 
istered it,  prescribed  it,  used  it  as  a  means  to 
bring  Simms  under  his  subjection.  The  girl 
looked  strangely  at  Tamada. 

"Would  he  have  taken  that  for  sciatica?" 
she  asked. 

"I  think,  perhaps,  yes.  Injection  over  muscle 
gives  relief.  Sometimes  makes  cure.  But  Cap- 
tain Simms  take  too  much.  Suppose  this  sup- 
ply cut  off  very  suddenly,  then  come  too  much 
chills,  maybe  collapse,  maybe — "  The  girl 
clutched  his  arm. 

"You  meant  more  than  you  said.  It  might 
mean  death  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Tamada  gravely. 
"Perhaps,  if  now  we  have  morphine,  presently 
we  give  him  smaller  dose  every  time,  it  will  be 
all  right."  He  lifted  up  the  sick  man's  hand 
and  examined  the  nails  critically.  They  were 
broken,  brittle. 

Rainey  had  gone  to  Carlsen's  room  in  search 
of  the  drug  and  the  injecting  needle. 


HONEST  SIMMS  199 

"How  much  d'ye  suppose  he  took  at  once?" 
Lund  asked  the  Japanese  in  a  low  voice. 

"Fifteen  grains,  I  think.  Maybe  more.  Too 
much!  Always  too  much  drug  in  his  veins. 
Much  worse  than  opium  for  man." 

"Carlsen's  work,"  growled  Lund.  "Increased 
the  stuff  on  him  till  he  couldn't  do  without  it. 
Made  him  a  slave  to  dope  an'  Carlsen  his  boss. 
He  deserved  killin'  jest  for  that,  the  skunk." 

Rainey  frantically  searched  through  the 
medicine  chest  and,  finding  only  five  tablets 
marked  Morphine  I  gr.  in  a  bottle,  sought  else- 
where in  vain.  And  he  could  find  no  needle. 
But  he  ran  across  some  automatic  cartridges 
and  put  them  in  his  pockets  before  he  hurried 
back. 

"This  is  not  enough,"  said  Tamada.  "And 
we  should  have  needle.  But  I  dissolve  these 
in  galley."  And  he  hurried  out.  The  girl  had 
slipped  down  on  her  knees  beside  the  bed,  hold- 
ing her  father's  hand  against  her  lips,  her  eyes 
closed.  She  seemed  to  be  praying. 


200          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Rainey  and  Lund  looked  at  each  other. 
Rainey  was  trying  to  recall  something.  It  came 
at  last,  the  memory  of  Carlsen  slipping  some- 
thing in  his  pocket  as  he  had  come  out  of  the 
captain's  room.  That  had  been  the  hypodermic 
case !  As  the  thought  lit  up  his  eyes  he  saw  a 
flash  in  Lund's. 

"Carlsen  had  the  morphine  on  him,"  said 
Lund  in  a  whisper,  not  to  disturb  the  girl. 

"And  the  needle !"  said  Rainey.  "What  if  ?" 
He  raced  out  of  the  cabin  forward,  passing 
Tamada,  coming  out  of  the  galley  with  the  dis- 
solved tablets  in  a  glass  that  steamed  with  hot 
water.  Swiftly  he  told  his  suspicions. 

"They  may  have  searched  him  first,"  he  said, 
and  went  on  to  the  hunters'  cabin.  They  were 
seated  about  their  table}  talking.  On  seeing 
Rainey  they  stopped  abruptly  and  viewed  him 
suspiciously.  Deming  rose. 

"What's  the  idea?"  he  asked  and  his  tone 
was  not  friendly. 

Rainey  hurriedly  explained.  Deming 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 


HONEST  SIMMS  201 

"They  sewed  him  up  in  canvas  in  the  f  o'k'le," 
he  said  indifferently.  "None  of  us  went 
through  him.  I  think  they  made  the  kid  do  the 
job." 

Rainey  found  Sandy  in  his  bunk,  asleep, 
trying  to  get  one  of  the  catnaps  by  which  he 
made  up  his  lack  of  definitely  assigned  rest. 
The  roustabout  woke  with  a  shudder,  flinching 
under  Rainey's  hand. 

"They  made  me  do  it,"  he  said  in  answer. 
"None  of  'em  'ud  touch  it  till  I  had  it  sewed 
in  an  old  staysail,  an'  a  boatkedge  tied  on  for 
weight.  I  didn't  go  inter  his  pockets.  I  was 
scared  to  touch  it  more'n  I  had  to." 

"Is  that  the  truth,  Sandy  ?  I  don't  care  what 
you  took  besides  this  little  case  and  a  bottle  of 
tablets.  You  can  keep  the  rest." 

"It's  the  bloody  truth,  Mister  Rainey,  s'elp 
me,"  whined  Sandy.  And  the  truth  was  in  his 
shifty  eyes. 

Rainey  went  back  with  his  news.  He 
imagined  that  the  five  grains  would  prove 
temporarily  sufficient.  And  they  could  put  in 


202          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

for  Unalaska.  There  were  surgeons  there  with 
the  revenue  fleet.  He  thought  there  was  prob- 
ably a  hospital. 

They  would  have  to  explain  Carlsen's  death. 
They  would  be  asked  about  the  purpose  of  the 
voyage,  the  crew  examined.  It  might  mean 
detention,  the  defeat  of  the  expedition,  the  very 
thing  that  Lund  had  feared,  the  following  of 
them  to  the  island.  He  wondered  how  Lund 
would  take  to  the  plan. 

He  found  that  Tamada  had  administered  the 
morphine.  Already  the  beneficial  results  were 
apparent.  The  dry,  frightfully  sallow  skin  had 
changed  and  Simms  was  breathing  freely 
while  Tamada,  feeling  his  pulse,  nodded 
affirmatively  to  the  girl's  questioning  glance. 

"Got  it?"  asked  Lund. 

Rainey  gave  the  result  of  his  search. 

"We'll  have  to  put  in  to  Unalaska,"  he  said. 
"There  are  doctors  there."  The  girl  turned 
toward  Lund.  He  smiled  at  the  intensity  of 
her  gaze  and  pose. 


HONEST  SIMMS  203 

"I  play  fair,  Miss  Peggy,"  he  said.  "Rainey, 
change  the  course." 

Peggy  Simms  seized  Lund's  great  paw  in 
both  her  hands,  and,  for  the  first  time,  the 
tears  overflowed  her  eyes.  The  Karluk  came 
about  as  Rainey  reached  the  deck  and  gave  his 
orders.  Then  he  returned  to  the  cabin.  The 
captain  had  opened  his  eyes. 

"Peggy!"  he  murmured.  "Carlsen,  where  is 
he?  Lund!  Good  God,  Lund,  you  can  see?" 

"Keep  quiet  as  you  can,"  said  Tamada. 
Something  in  his  voice  made  the  skipper  shift 
his  look  to  the  Japanese. 

"Where's  Carlsen?"  he  asked  again. 

"He  can't  come  now,"  said  Tamada. 

Under  the  urge  of  the  drug  the  skipper's 
brain  seemed  abnormally  clear,  his  intuition 
heightened. 

"Carlsen's  dead?"  he  asked.  Then,  shifting 
to  Lund.  "You  killed  him,  Jim?" 

Lund  nodded. 

"How  much  morphine  did  you  give  me?" 


204          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Five  grains." 

"It's  not  enough.  It  won't  last.  There  isn't 
any  more?"  he  flashed  out,  with  sudden  en- 
ergy, trying  to  raise  himself. 

"We're  puttin'  in  for  Unalaska,  Simms," 
said  Lund. 

"How  far?" 

"  'Bout  seventy  miles." 

"Then  it's  too  late.  Too  late.  The  pain's 
shifted  of  late — to  my  heart.  It'll  get  me 
presently." 

The  girl  darted  a  look  of  hate  at  Lund,  an 
accusation  that  he  met  composedly,  swift  as 
the  change  had  come  from  the  almost  rever- 
ence with  which  she  had  clasped  his  hand. 

"I'll  be  gone  in  an  hour  or  two,"  said  the 
skipper.  "Got  to  talk  while  this  lasts.  Jim — 
about  leavin'  you  that  time.  I  could  have  come 
back.  I  had  words  about  it — with  Hansen. 
He  knows.  But  the  gale  was  bad,  an'  the  ice. 
It  wasn't  the  gold,  Jim.  I  swear  it.  I  had  the 
ship  an'  crew  to  look  out  for.  An'  Peggy,  at 
home. 


HONEST  SIMMS  205 

"I  might  have  gone  back  sooner,  Jim,  I'll 
own  up  to  that.  But  it  wasn't  the  gold  that 
did  it.  An' — I  didn't  hear  what  you  shouted, 
Jim.  The  storm  came  up.  We  were  frozen 
by  the  time  we  found  the  ship.  Numb. 

"Then,  then;  oh,  God,  my  heart!"  He  sat 
upright,  clutching  at  his  chest,  his  face  con- 
vulsed with  spasms  of  pain.  Tamada  got  some 
brandy  between  the  chattering  teeth.  Sweat 
poured  out  on  the  skipper's  forehead,  and  he 
sank  back,  exhausted  but  temporarily  relieved. 
The  girl  wiped  his  brows. 

"It'll  get  me  next  attack,"  he  said  presently 
in  a  weak  voice.  "Jim,  this  trouble  hit  me  the 
day  after  we  left  the  floe.  Not  sciatica,  at  first, 
but  in  the  head.  I  couldn't  think  right.  I  was 
just  numb  in  the  brain.  An'  when  it  cleared 
off,  it  was  too  late.  The  ice  had  closed.  We 
couldn't  go  back.  I  read  up  in  my  medical 
book,  Jim,  later,  when  the  sciatica  took  me. 

"Had  to  take  to  my  bunk.  Couldn't  stand. 
I  had  morphine,  an'  it  relieved  me.  Took  too 
much  after  a  while.  Had  to  have  it.  Got  better 


206          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

in  San  Francisco  for  a  bit.  Then  Carlsen  pre- 
scribed it.  Morphine  was  my  boss,  an'  then 
Carlsen,  he  was  boss  of  the  morphine.  Seemed 
like — seemed  like —  More  brandy,  Tamada." 

His  voice  was  weaker  when  he  spoke  again. 
They  came  closer  to  catch  his  whispers. 

"Carlsen — mind  wasn't  my  own.  Peggy — I 
wasn't  in  my  right  mind,  honey.  Not  when — 
Carlsen — he  was  angel  when  he  gave  me  what 
I  wanted — devil — when  he  wouldn't.  Made 
me — do  things.  But  he's  dead.  And  I'm  go- 
ing. Never  reach  Unalaska.  Peggy — forgive. 
Meant  for  best — but — not  in  right  mind.  Jim 
— it  wasn't  the  gold.  Not  Peggy's  fault — any- 
way." 

"She'll  get  hers,  Simms,"  said  Lund.  "Yours 
too." 

The  skipper's  eyes  closed  and  his  frame 
settled  under  the  clothes.  The  girl  flung  her- 
self on  the  bed  in  uncontrollable  weeping. 
Lund  raised  his  eyebrows  at  Tamada,  who 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Better  get  out  o'  here,"  whispered  Lund. 


HONEST  SIMMS  207 

He  and  Rainey  went  out  together.  In  a  few 
minutes  Tamada  joined  them,  his  face  sphinx- 
like  as  ever. 

"He  is  dead,"  he  said. 

Rainey  and  Lund  went  on  deck.  The 
schooner  thrashed  toward  the  volcano,  the 
bearing-mark  for  Unalaska,  hidden  behind  it. 
They  paced  up  and  down  in  silence. 

"I  guess  he  was  'Honest  Simms,'  after  all," 
said  Lund  at  last.  "The  gal  blames  me  for  the 
morphine,  but  Carlsen  never  meant  him  to 
live.  She'll  see  that  after  a  bit,  mebbe." 

Rainey  glanced  at  him  curiously.  He  was 
getting  fresh  lights  on  Lund. 

Then  the  girl  appeared,  pale,  composed,  com- 
ing straight  up  to  Lund,  who  halted  his  stride 
at  sight  of  her. 

"Will  you  change  the  course,  Mr.  Lund?" 
she  said. 

He  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"Father  spoke  once  more.  After  you  left. 
He  does  not  want  you  to  go  on  to  Unalaska. 
He  said  it  would  mean  a  rush  for  the  gold; 


208          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

perhaps  you  would  have  to  stay  there.  He 
does  not  want  you  to  lose  the  gold.  He  wants 
me  to  have  my  share.  He  made  me  promise. 
And  he  wants — he  wants" — she  bit  her  lip 
fiercely  in  repression  of  her  feelings  " — to  be 
buried  at  sea.  That  was  his  last  request." 

She  turned  and  looked  over  the  rail,  strug- 
gling to  wink  back  her  tears.  Rainey  saw  the 
giant's  glance  sweep  over  her,  full  of  admira- 
tion. 

"As  you  wish,  Miss  Peggy,"  he  said.  "Han- 
sen,  'bout  ship.  Hold  on  a  minnit.  How  about 
you,  Miss  Peggy?  If  you  want  to  go  home, 
we  can  find  ways  at  Unalaska.  I  play  fair.  I'll 
bring  back  yore  share — in  full." 

"I  am  not  thinking  about  the  gold,"  the  girl 
said  scornfully.  "But  I  want  to  carry  out  my 
father's  last  wishes,  if  you  will  permit  me.  I 
shall  stay  with  the  ship.  Now  I  am  going  back 
to  him.  You — you" — she  quelled  the  tremble 
of  her  mouth,  and  her  chin  showed  firm  and 
determined — "you  can  arrange  for  the  funeral 


HONEST  SIMMS  209 

to-morrow  at  dawn,  if  you  will.  I  want  him 
to-night." 

Her  face  quivered  piteously,  but  she  con- 
quered even  that  and  walked  to  the  companion- 
way. 

"Game,  by  God,  game  as  they  make  'em!" 
said  Lund. 


CHAPTER  XII 

DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM 

R \INEY,  dozing  in  his  bunk,  going  over 
the  sudden  happenings  of  the  day,  had 
placed  Carlsen's  automatic  under  his  pillow 
after  loading  it.  He  found  that  it  lacked  four 
shells  of  full  capacity,  the  two  that  Lund  had 
fired  at  his  bottle  target,  the  one  fired  by  Carl- 
sen  at  Rainey,  and  the  last  ineffective  shot  at 
Lund,  a  shot  that  went  astray,  Rainey  decided, 
largely  through  Lund's  coup-de-theatre  of  tear- 
ing off  his  glasses  and  flinging  them  at  the 
doctor. 

The  dynamo  that  he  had  idly  fancied  he 
could  hear  purring  away  inside  of  Lund  was 
apparent  with  vengeance  now,  driving  with 
full  force.  That  was  what  Lund  would  be 
from  now  on,  a  driver,  imperative,  relentless, 
overcoming  all  obstacles;  as  he  had  himself 
said,  selfish  at  heart,  keen  for  his  own  ends. 
210 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       211 

Rainey  was  neither  a  weakling  nor  a  coward, 
but  he  shrank  from  open  encounter  with  Lund, 
and  knew  himself,  without  fear,  the  weaker 
man.  The  challenge  of  Lund,  splendidly  dar- 
ing any  one  of  them  to  come  out  against  him 
alone,  and  challenging  them  en  masse,  had 
found  in  Rainey  an  acknowledgment  of  in- 
feriority that  was  not  merely  physical. 

Lund  knew  far  more  than  he  did  about  the 
class  of  men  that  made  up  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Karluk.  Rainey  had  once  fondly  hugged 
the  delusion  that  he  knew  something  of  the 
nature  of  those  who  "went  down  to  the  sea  in 
ships." 

Now  he  knew  that  his  ignorance  was  colos- 
sal. Such  men  were  not  complex,  they  moved 
by  instinct  rather  than  reason,  they  were  not 
guided  by  conscience,  the  values  of  right  and 
wrong  were  not  intuitive  with  them,  muscle 
rather  than  mind  ruled  their  universe. 

Yet  Rainey  could  not  solve  them,  and  Lund 
knew  them  as  one  may  know  a  favorite  book. 

Lund  had  brains,  cunning,  brute  force  that 


212          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

commanded  a  respect  not  all  bred  of  being 
weaker.  In  a  way  he  was  magnificent.  And 
Rainey  vaguely  heralded  trouble  when  Captain 
Simms  was  at  last  given  to  the  deep.  He  felt 
certain  that  the  hunters  under  Deming  were 
hatching  something  but,  in  the  main,  his  mental 
prophecy  of  trouble  coming  was  connected 
with  the  girl. 

Lund  had  shown  no  disrespect  to  her,  rather 
the  opposite.  But  the  girl  showed  hatred  of 
Lund  and,  in  minor  measure,  of  Rainey.  Some 
of  this  would  die  out,  naturally.  Rainey  in- 
tended to  attempt  an  adjustment  in  his  own 
behalf.  But  he  held  the  feeling  that  Lund 
would  not  tolerate  this  hatred  against  him  on 
the  part  of  the  girl.  Such  scorn  would  arouse 
something  in  the  giant's  nature,  something  that 
would  either  strike  under  the  lash,  or  laugh 
at  it. 

Dimly,  Rainey  saw  these  things  as  the  giant 
gropings  of  sex,  not  as  he  had  known  it,  sur- 
rounded by  conventionalities,  by  courtesies  of 
twentieth-century  veneering,  but  a  law,  primi- 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       213 

tive,  irresistible,  sweeping  away  barriers  and 
opposition,  a  thing  bigger  even  than  the  lust 
of  gold;  the  lure  of  woman  for  man,  and  man 
for  woman. 

Both  Lund  and  the  girl,  he  felt,  would  have 
this  thing  in  greater  measure  than  he  would. 
He  shared  his  life  with  too  many  things,  with 
books,  with  amusements,  with  the  social  ping- 
pong  of  the  level  in  which  he  ordinarily  moved. 

There  had  been  once  a  girl,  perhaps  there 
still  was  a  girl,  whom  Rainey  had  known  on  a 
visit  to  the  camp-palace  of  a  lumber  king,  high 
in  the  Sierras,  a  girl  who  rode  and  hunted  and 
lived  out-of-doors,  and  yet  danced  gloriously, 
sang,  sewed  and  was  both  feminine  and  mascu- 
line, a  maddening  latter-day  Diana,  who  had 
swept  Rainey  off  his  feet  for  the  time. 

But  he  had  known  that  he  was  not  up  to  her 
standards,  that  he  was  but  a  paper-worm,  aside 
from  his  lack  of  means.  That  latter  detail 
would,  he  knew,  have  bothered  him  far  more 
than  her.  But  she  announced  openly  that  she 
would  only  mate  with  a  man  who  had  lived. 


214          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

He  rather  fancied  that  it  had  been  a  challenge 
— one  he  had  not  taken  up.  The  matrix  of  his 
own  life  just  then  was  too  snug  a  bed.  Well, 
he  was  living  now,  he  told  himself. 

On  the  border  of  dreams  he  was  brought 
back  by  a  strange  noise  on  deck,  a  rush  of  feet, 
many  voices,  and  topping  them  all,  the  bellow 
of  Lund,  roaring,  not 'for  help,  but  in  challenge. 

Rainey,  half  asleep,  jumped  from  his  bunk 
and  rushed  out  of  the  room.  He  had  no  doubt 
as  to  what  had  happened;  the  hunters  had  at- 
tacked Lund!  And,  unused  to  the  possession 
of  firearms,  still  drowsy,  he  forgot  the  auto- 
matic, intent  upon  rallying  to  the  cry  of  the 
giant.  As  he  made  for  the  companionway,  the 
girl  came  out  of  her  father's  room. 

"What  is  it?"  she  cried. 

"Lund — hunters !"  Rainey  called  back  as  he 
sped  up  the  stairs.  He  thought  he  heard  a 
"wait"  from  her,  but  the  stamping  and  yelling 
were  loud  in  his  ears,  and  he  plunged  out  on 
deck.  As  he  emersred  he  saw  the  stolid  face  of 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       215 

Hansen  at  the  wheel,  his  pale  blue  eyes  glanc- 
ing at  the  set  of  his  canvas  and  then  taking  on 
a  glint  as  they  turned  amidships. 

Lund  looked  like  a  bear  surrounded  by  the 
dog-pack.  He  stood  upright  while  the  six  hunt- 
ers tore  and  smashed  at  him.  Two  had  caught 
him  by  the  middle,  one  from  the  front  and  one 
from  the  rear,  and,  as  the  fight  raged  back  and 
forth,  they  were  swung  off  their  feet,  blud- 
geoned and  kicked  by  Lund  to  stop  them  get- 
ting at  the  gun  in  its  holster  slung  under  his 
coat  close  to  his  armpit. 

Lund's  arms  swung  like  clubs,  his  great 
hands  plucked  at  their  holds,  while  he  roared 
volleys  of  deep-sea,  defiant  oaths,  shaking  or 
striking  off  a  man  now  and  then,  who  charged 
back  snarlingly  to  the  attack. 

Brief  though  the  fight  had  been  when  Rainey 
arrived,  there  was  ample  evidence  of  it.  Clothes 
were  torn  and  faces  bloody,  and  already  the 
men  were  panting  as  Lund  dragged  them  here 
and  there,  flailing,  striking,  half-smothered, 


216          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

but  always  coming  up  from  under,  like  a  rock 
that  emerges  from  the  bursting  of  a  heavy 
wave. 

And  the  voice  of  the  combat,  grunts  and 
snarls,  gasping  shouts  and  broken  curses,  was 
the  sound  of  ravening  beasts.  So  far  as 
Rainey  could  vision  in  one  swift  moment  be- 
fore he  ran  forward,  no  knives  were  being 
used. 

A  hunter  lunged  out  heavily  and  confidently 
to  meet  him  as  the  others  got  Lund  to  his  knees 
for  a  fateful  moment,  piling  on  top  of  him, 
bludgeoning  blows  with  guttural  cries  of  fan- 
cied victory. 

Rainey's  man  struck,  and  the  strength  of 
his  arm,  backed  by  his  hurling  weight,  broke 
down  Rainey's  guard  and  left  the  arm  numb. 
The  next  instant  they  were  at  close  quarters, 
swinging  madly,  rife  with  the  one  desire  to 
down  the  other,  to  maim,  to  kill.  A  blow 
crashed  home  on  Rainey's  cheek,  sending  him 
back  dazed,  striking  madly,  clinching  to  stop 
the  piston-like  smashes  of  the  hunter  clutching 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       217 

him,  trying  to  trip  him,  hammering  at  the 
fierce  face  above  him  as  they  both  went  down 
and  rolled  into  the  scuppers,  tearing  at  each 
other. 

He  felt  the  man's  hands  at  his  throat,  gradu- 
..ally    squeezing    out    sense    and    breath    and 
strength,  and  threw  up  his  knee  with  all  his 
force.    It  struck  the  hunter  fairly  in  the  groin, 
and  he  heard  the  man  groan  with  the  sudden 
agony.     But  he  himself  was  nearly  out.     The 
man  seemed  to  fade  away  for  the  second,  the 
choking  fingers   relaxed,   and   Rainey   gulped 
for  air.     His  eyes  seemed  strained  from  bulg- 
ing from  their  sockets  in  that  fierce  grip,  and 
there  was  a  fog  before  them  through  which 
he  could  hear  the  roar  of  Lund,  sounding  like 
a  siren  blast  that  told  he  was  still  fighting,  still 
confident. 

Then  he  saw  the  hunter's  face  close  to  his 
again,  felt  the  whole  weight  of  the  man  crush- 
ing him,  felt  the  bite  of  teeth  through  cloth 
and  flesh,  nipping  down  on  his  shoulder  as  the 
man  lay  on  him,  striving  to  hold  him  down  un- 


218          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

til  he  regained  the  strength  that  the  blow  in 
the  groin  had  temporarily  broken  down. 

For  just  a  moment  Rainey's  spirit  sagged, 
his  own  strength  was  spent,  his  will  sapped,  his 
lungs  flattened.  For  a  moment  he  wanted  to 
lie  there — to  quit. 

Then  the  hunter's  body  tautened  for  action, 
and,  at  the  feel,  Rainey's  ebbing  pride  came 
surging  back,  and  he  heaved  and  twisted,  club- 
bing the  other  over  his  kidneys  until  the  roll 
of  the  schooner  sent  them  twisting,  tumbling 
over  to  the  lee  once  more. 

He  felt  as  if  he  had  been  fighting  for  an 
hour,  yet  it  had  all  taken  place  during  the  leap 
of  the  Karluk  between  two  long  swells  that  she 
had  negotiated  with  a  sidelong  lurch  to  the 
cross  seas  and  wind. 

Rainey  came  up  uppermost.  The  hunter's 
head  struck  the  rail  heavily.  His  shoulder  was 
free,  but  he  could  see  ravelings  of  his  coat  in 
the  other's  teeth.  The  pain  in  his  shoulder  was 
evident  enough,  and  the  sight  of  the  woolly 
fragments  maddened  him.  The  tactics  of  boy- 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       219 

ish  fights  came  back  to  him,  and  he  broke  loose 
from  the  arms  that  hugged  him,  hitched  for- 
ward until  he  sat  on  the  hunter's  chest,  set  a 
knee  on  either  bicep  and  battered  at  the  other's 
face  as  it  twisted  from  side  to  side  helplessly, 
making  a  pulp  of  it,  keen  to  efface  all  sem- 
blance of  humanity,  a  brute  like  the  rest  of 
them,  intent  upon  bruising,  on  blood-letting, 
on  beating  all  resistance  down  to  a  quivering, 
spirit-broken  mass. 

The  hunter  lay  still  beneath  him  at  last,  his 
nerve  centers  shattered  by  some  blow  that  had 
short-circuited  them,  and  Rainey  got  wearily 
to  his  feet.  The  hunter's  thumbs  had  pressed 
deep  on  each  side  of  his  neck,  and  his  head  felt 
like  wood  for  heaviness,  but  shot  with  pain. 
The  vigor  was  out  of  him.  He  knew  he  could 
not  endure  another  hand-to-hand  battle  with 
one  of  the  crowd  still  raging  about  Lund,  who 
was  on  his  feet  again. 

Rainey  saw  his  face,  one  red  mask  of  blood 
and  hair,  with  his  agate  eyes  flaring  up  with 
the  glory  of  the  fight.  He  roared  no  longer, 


220          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

saving  his  breath.  Hands  clutched  for  him 
and  fists  fell,  a  man  was  tugging  at  each  knee 
of  his  legs,  set  far  apart,  sturdy  as  the  masts 
themselves. 

Lund's  arm  came  up,  lifting  a  hunter  clean 
from  the  deck,  shook  him  off  somehow,  and 
crashed  down.  One  of  the  men  tackling  his 
legs  dropped  senseless  from  the  buffet  he  got 
on  the  side  of  his  skull,  and  Lund's  kick  sent 
him  scudding  across  the  deck,  limp,  out  of  the 
fight  that  could  not  last  much  longer. 

All  this  came  as  Rainey,  still  dazed,  helped 
himself  by  the  skylight  toward  the  companion, 
going  as  fast  as  he  could  to  get  his  gun.  If  he 
did  not  hurry  he  was  certain  they  would  kill 
Lund.  No  man  could  withstand  those  odds 
much  longer. 

And,  Lund  killed,  hell  would  break  loose. 
It  would  be  his  turn  next,  and  the  girl  would 
be  left  at  their  mercy.  The  thought  spurred 
him,  cleared  his  throbbing  head,  jarred  by  the 
smashes  of  his  still  senseless  opponent  who 
would  be  coming  to  before  long. 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       221 

Then  he  saw  the  girl,  standing  by  the  rail, 
not  crouching,  as  he  had  somehow  expected 
her  to  be,  shutting  out  the  sight  of  the  fight 
with  trembling  hands,  but  with  her  face  aglow, 
her  eyes  shining,  watching,  as  a  Roman  maid 
might  have  watched  a  gladiatorial  combat; 
thrilled  with  the  spectacle,  hands  gripping  the 
rail,  leaning  a  little  forward. 

She  did  not  notice  Rainey  as  he  crept  by 
Hansen,  still  guiding  the  schooner,  holding  her 
to  her  course,  imperturbable,  apparently  care- 
less of  the  issue.  As  he  staggered  down  the 
stairs  the  line  of  thought  he  had  pursued  in  his 
bunk,  broken  by  the  noise  of  the  fight  and  his 
participation,  flashed  up  in  his  brain. 

This  was  sex,  primitive,  predominant!  The 
girl  must  sense  what  might  happen  to  her  if 
Lund  went  down.  She  had  no  eyes  for  Rainey, 
her  soul  was  up  in  arms,  backing  Lund.  The 
shine  in  her  eyes  was  for  the  strength  of  his 
prime  manhood,  matched  against  the  rest,  not 
as  a  person,  an  individual,  but  as  an  embodi- 
ment of  the  conquering  male. 


222          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

He  got  the  gun,  and  he  snatched  a  drink  of 
brandy  that  ran  through  his  veins  like  quick 
fire,  revivifying  him  so  that  he  ran  up  the  lad- 
der and  came  on  deck  ready  to  take  a  decisive 
hand. 

But  he  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  risk  a  shot 
in  that  swirling  mass.  They  all  seemed  to  be 
arm  weary.  Blows  no  longer  rose  and  fell. 
Lund  was  slowly  dragging  the  dead  weight  of 
them  all  toward  the  mast.  The  two  men  on 
the  deck  still  lay  there.  Rainey's  opponent 
was  trying  to  get  up,  wiping  clumsily  at  the 
blood  on  his  face,  blinded. 

The  girl  still  stood  by  the  rail.  Back  of  the 
wrestling  mass  stood  the  seamen,  offering  to 
take  no  part,  their  arms  aswing  like  apes,  their 
dull  faces  working.  Tamada  stood  by  the  for- 
ward companion,  his  arms  folded,  indifferent, 
neutral. 

All  this  Rainey  saw  as  he  circled,  while  the 
mass  whirled  like  a  teetotum.  The  action 
raced  like  an  overtimed  kinetoscopic  film.  A 
man  broke  loose  from  the  scrimmage,  on  the 


Then  he  saw  the  girl  standing  by  the  rail 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       223 

opposite  side  from  Rainey,  who  barely  recog- 
nized the  disheveled  figure  with  the  bloody, 
battered  face  as  Deming.  The  hunter  had 
managed  to  get  hold  of  Lund's  gun.  Rainey's 
aim  was  screened  by  a  sudden  lunge  of  the 
huddle  of  men.  He  saw  Lund  heave,  saw  his 
red  face  bob  up,  mouth  open,  roaring  once 
more,  saw  his  leg  come  up  in  a  tremendous 
kick  that  caught  Deming's  outleveling  arm 
close  to  the  elbow,  saw  the  gleam  of  the  gun 
as  it  streaked  up  and  overboard,  and  Deming 
staggering  back,  clutching  at  his  broken  limb, 
cursing  with  the  pain,  to  bring  up  against  the 
rail  and  shout  to  the  seamen: 

"Get  into  it,  you  damned  cowards !  Get  into 
it,  and  settle  him !" 

Even  in  that  instant  the  sarcasm  of  the  cry 
of  "cowards"  struck  home  to  Rainey.  The 
next  second  the  girl  had  jumped  by  him,  a  glint 
of  metal  in  her  hand  as  she  brought  it  out  of 
her  blouse.  This  time  she  saw  him.  "Come 
on !"  she  cried.  And  darted  between  the  fight- 
ers and  the  storming  figure  of  Deming,  who 


224          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

tried  to  grasp  her  with  his  one  good  arm,  but 
failed. 

Rainey  sped  after  her  just  as  Lund  reached 
the  mast.  The  girl  had  a  nickeled  pistol  in  her 
hand  and  was  threatening  the  sullen  line  of  ir- 
resolute seamen.  Rainey  with  his  gun  was 
not  needed.  He  heard  Lund  shout  out  in  a  tri- 
umphant cry  and  saw  him  battering  at  the 
heads  of  three  who  still  clung  to  him. 

All  through  the  fight  Lund  had  kept  his 
head,  struggling  to  the  purpose  he  had  finally 
achieved,  to  reach  the  mast-rack  of  belaying 
pins,  seize  one  of  the  hardwood  clubs  and,  with 
this  weapon,  beat  his  assailants  to  the  deck. 

He  stood  against  the  mast,  his  clothes  almost 
stripped  from  him,  the  white  of  his  flesh 
gleaming  through  the  tatters,  streaked  with 
blood.  Save  for  his  eyes,  his  face  was  no 
longer  human,  only  a  mass  of  flayed  flesh  and 
clotted  beard.  But  his  eyes  were  alight  with 
battle  and  then,  as  Rainey  gazed,  they  changed. 
Something  of  surprise,  then  of  delight,  leaped 
into  them,  followed  by  a  burning  flare  that  was 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       225 

matched  in  those  of  the  girl  who,  with  Rainey 
herding  back  the  seamen,  had  turned  at  Lund's 
yell  of  victory. 

Lund  took  a  lurching  step  forward  over  the 
prone  bodies  of  the  men  on  the  deck,  that  was 
splotched  with  blood. 

"By  God !"  he  said  slowly,  his  arms  opening, 
his  great  fingers  outspread,  his  gaze  on  the 
girl,  "by  God!" 

The  girl's  face  altered.  Her  eyes  grew 
frightened,  cold.  The  retreating  blood  left  her 
cheeks  pale,  and  she  wheeled  and  fled,  dodging 
behind  Tamada,  who  gave  way  to  let  her  pass, 
his  ivory  features  showing  no  emotion,  closing 
up  the  fore  companionway  as  Peggy  Simms 
dived  below. 

Lund  did  not  follow  her.  Instead,  he 
laughed  shortly  and  appeared  to  see  Rainey 
for  the  first  time. 

"Jumped  me,  the  bunch  of  'em !"  he  said,  his 
chest  heaving,  his  breath  coming  in  spurts 
from  his  laboring  lungs.  "Couldn't  use  my  gun. 
But  I  licked  'em.  Damn  'em !  Equals?  Hell !" 


226          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

He  seemed  to  have  a  clear  recollection  of  the 
fight.  He  smiled  grimly  at  Deming,  who 
glared  at  him,  nursing  his  broken  arm,  then 
glanced  at  the  man  that  Rainey  had  mastered. 

"Did  him  up,  eh?  Good  for  you,  matey! 
You  didn't  have  to  use  your  gun.  Jest  as  well, 
you  might  have  plugged  me.  An'  the  gal  had 
one,  after  all." 

He  seemed  to  ruminate  on  this  thought  as 
if  it  gave  him  special  cause  for  reflection. 

"Game!"  he  said.  "Game  as  they  make 
'em!" 

He  surveyed  the  rueful,  groaning  combat- 
ants with  the  smile  of  a  conqueror,  then  turned 
to  the  seamen. 

"Here,  you!"  he  roared,  and  they  jumped 
as  if  galvanized  into  life  by  the  shout.  "Chuck 
a  bucket  of  water  over  'em !  Chuck  water  till 
they  git  below.  Then  clean  the  decks.  Off- 
watch,  you're  out  of  this.  Below  with  you, 
where  you  belong.  Jump ! 

"They  all  fought  fair,"  he  went  on.  "Not  a 
knife  out.  Only  Deming  there,  when  he  knew 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM        227 

he  was  licked,  tried  to  git  my  gun.  Yo're 
yeller,  Deming,"  he  said,  with  contempt  that 
was  as  if  he  had  spat  in  the  hunter's  face.  "I 
thought  you  were  a  better  man  than  the  rest. 
But  you've  got  yores.  Git  down  below  an' 
we'll  fix  you  up." 

He  strode  over  to  Hansen,  stolid  at  the 
wheel. 

"Wai,  you  wooden-faced  squarehead,"  he 
said,  "which  way  did  you  think  it  was  coming 
out?  Damn  me  if  you  didn't  play  square, 
though !  You  kept  her  up.  If  you'd  liked  you 
could  have  chucked  us  all  asprawl,  an'  that 
would  have  bin  the  end  of  it,  with  me  down. 
You  git  a  bottle  of  booze  for  that,  Hansen,  all 
for  yore  own  Scandinavian  belly.  Come  on, 
Rainey.  Tamada,  I  want  you." 

While  Tamada  got  splints  and  did  what  he 
could  for  the  badly  shattered  arm,  Lund 
taunted  Deming  until  the  hunter's  face  was 
seamed  with  useless  ferocity,  like  a  weasel's  in 
a  trap. 

"I  wonder  you  fix  him  at  all,  Tamada,"  he 


228          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

said.  "He  wanted  to  cut  you  out  of  yore 
share.  Called  you  a  yellow-skinned  heathen, 
Tamada.  What  makes  you  gentle  him  that 
way?  You've  got  him  where  you  want  him." 

Tamada,  binding  up  the  splints  profession- 
ally, looked  at  Deming  with  jetty  eyes  that  re- 
vealed no  emotion. 

Lund  passed  his  hand  over  his  face. 

"I'm  some  mess  myself,"  he  said,  stretching 
his  great  arms.  "Give  me  a  five-finger  drink, 
Rainey,  afore  I  clean  up.  Some  scrap.  Hell 
popping  on  deck,  and  a  dead  man  in  the  cabin ! 
And  the  gal!  Did  you  see  the  gal,  Rainey?" 

Out  of  the  bloody  mask  of  his  face  his  agate 
eyes  twinkled  at  Rainey  with  a  sort  of  good- 
natured  malice.  Rainey  did  not  answer  as  he 
poured  the  liquor. 

"Make  it  four  finger,"  exclaimed  Lund. 
"Deming's  goin'  to  faint.  One  for  Doc  Ta- 
mada." 

The  Japanese  excused  himself,  helping 
Deming,  worn  out  with  pain  and  consumed  by 
baffled  hate,  forward  through  the  galley  corri- 


DEMING  BREAKS  AN  ARM       229 

dor.  Then  he  came  back  with  warm  water  in 
a  basin — and  towels. 

"After  this  cheery  little  fracas,"  said  Lund, 
mopping  at  his  face,  "we'll  mebbe  have  a  nice, 
quiet,  genteel  sort  of  ship.  My  gun  went  over- 
board, didn't  it?  Better  let  me  have  that  one 
you've  got,  Rainey." 

He  stretched  out  his  hand  for  it.  Rainey 
delivered  it,  reluctantly.  There  was  nothing 
else  to  do,  but  he  felt  more  than  ever  that  the 
Karluk  was  henceforth  to  be  a  one-man  ship, 
run  at  the  will  of  Lund. 

But  the  girl,  too,  had  a  weapon.  He  hugged 
that  thought.  She  carried  it  for  her  own  pro- 
tection, and  she  would  not  hesitate  to  use  it. 
What  a  girl  she  was !  What  a  woman  rather ! 
A  woman  who  would  mate — not  marry  for  the 
quiet  safety  of  a  home.  Rainey  thought  of  her 
as  one  does  of  a  pool  that  one  plumbs  with  a 
stone,  thinking  to  find  it  fairly  shallow,  only 
to  discover  it  a  gulf  with  unknown  depth  and 
currents,  capable  of  smiling  placidness  or  sud- 
den storm. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  RIFLE  CARTRIDGES 

THE  girl  did  not  appear  for  the  evening 
meal.  She  had  refused  Tamada's  sug- 
gestions through  the  door.  Lund  drank 
heavily,  but  without  any  effect,  save  to  sink 
him  in  comparative  silence,  as  he  and  Rainey 
sat  "together,  after  the  Japanese  had  cleared 
the  table.  In  contrast  to  the  excitement  of  the 
fight,  their  moods  had  changed,  sobered  by  the 
thought  of  the  girl  sitting  up  with  her  dead  in 
the  captain's  room. 

Rainey  was  bruised  and  stiffened,  and  Lund 
moved  with  less  of  his  usual  ease.  The  flesh  of 
his  face  had  been  so  pounded  that  it  was  turn- 
ing dull  purple  in  great  patches,  giving  him  a 
diabolical  appearance  against  his  flaming 
beard. 

"We've  got  to  git  hold  of  those  cartridges," 
230 


THE  RIFLE  CARTRIDGES       231 

he  said,  after  a  long  pause.  "Carlsen  had  'em 
planted  somewhere,  an'  it's  likely  in  his  room. 
Best  thing  to  do  is  to  chuck  'em  overboard. 
Cheaper  to  dump  the  cartridges  an'  shells  than 
the  rifles  an'  shotguns. 

"You  see,"  he  went  on,  "Deming  ain't  quit. 
That's  one  thing  with  a  man  who's  streaked 
with  yeller,  when  he  gits  licked  in  the  open  an' 
knows  he's  licked  proper,  he  tries  to  git  even 
underhanded.  He  knows  jest  as  well  as  I  do 
that  Carlsen  was  lyin'  that  time  about  there 
bein'  no  more  shells.  O'  course  the  skipper 
may  have  stowed  'em  away,  but  I  doubt  it.  An' 
jest  so  long  as  he  thinks  there's  a  chance  of 
gittin'  at  'em,  he'll  figger  on  turning'  the  tables 
some  day.  An'  he'll  be  workin'  the  rest  of  'em 
up  to  the  job." 

"They  can't  do  much  without  a  navigator," 
suggested  Rainey. 

"Mebbe  they  figger  a  man'll  do  a  lot  o' 
things  he  don't  want  to  with  a  rifle  barrel  stuck 
in  his  neck  or  the  small  of  his  back,"  said  Lund 
grimly.  "It's  a  good  persuader.  Might  even 


232          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

have  some  influence  on  me.  Then  ag'in  it 
might  not." 

"Where  is  the  magazine  ?"  asked  Rainey. 

"In  the  little  room  aft  o'  the  galley.  We'll 
look  there  first.  Come  on." 

"How  about  keys?  Carlsen's  must  have 
been  in  his  pockets.  I  didn't  see  them  when  I 
was  hunting  the  morphine.  We  can't  go  in 
there."  Rainey  made  a  motion  toward  the 
skipper's  room.  Lund  chuckled. 

"I  had  my  keys  to  the  safe  an'  the  magazine 
when  I  was  aboard  last  trip,"  he  said.  "They 
was  with  me  when  we  went  on  the  ice.  An'  I 
hung  on  to  'em.  Allus  thought  I  might  have 
a  chance  to  use  'em  ag'in." 

The  strong  room  of  the  Karluk  was  a  nar- 
row compartment,  heavily  partitioned  off  from 
the  galley  and  the  corridor.  There  was  a  lamp 
there,  and  Rainey  lit  it  while  Lund  closed  the 
door  behind  them.  The  magazine  was  an  iron 
chest  fastened  to  the  floor  and  the  side  of  the 
vessel  with  two  padlocks,  opened  by  different 
keys.  It  was  quite  empty. 


THE  RIFLE  CARTRIDGES       233 

"Thorough  man,  Carlsen,"  said  Lund. 
"Prepared  for  a  show-down,  if  necessary. 
Might  have  put  'em  in  the  safe.  Wonder  if 
he  changed  the  combination?  I  bet  Simms 
didn't,  year  in  an'  out." 

He  worked  at  the  disk  and  grunted  as  the 
tumblers  clicked  home. 

"It  ain't  changed,"  he  said.  "No  use  lookin' 
here."  But  he  swung  back  the  door  and  rum- 
maged through  books  and  papers,  disturbing 
a  chronometer  and  a  small  cash-box  that  held 
the  schooner's  limited  amount  of  ready  cash. 
There  was  no  sign  of  any  cartridges. 

"We'll  tackle  Carlsen's  room  next,"  he  an- 
nounced. "I  don't  suppose  you  looked  be- 
tween the  bunk  mattresses,  did  you?" 

"I  never  thought  of  it,"  said  Rainey.  "I 
didn't  imagine  there  would  be  more  than  one." 

"I've  got  a  hunch  you'll  find  two  on  Carl- 
sen's  bunk.  An'  the  shells  between  'em.  He 
kep'  his  door  locked  when  he  was  out  of  the 
main  cabin  an'  slep'  on  'em  nights.  That's 
what  I'd  be  apt  to  do." 


234          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

As  they  came  into  the  main  cabin  Rainey 
caught  Lund  by  the  arm. 

"I'm  almost  sure  I  saw  Carlsen's  door  clos- 
ing," he  whispered.  "It  might  have  been  the 
shadow." 

"But  it  might  not.  Shouldn't  wonder.  One 
of  'em's  sneaked  in.  Saw  the  cabin  empty, 
an'  figgered  we'd  turned  in.  While  we  was 
in  the  strong-room." 

He  took  the  automatic  from  his  pocket  and 
went  straight  to  the  door  of  Carlsen's  room. 
It  was  locked  or  bolted  from  within. 

"The  fool!"  said  Lund.  "I've  got  a  good 
mind  to  let  him  stay  there  till  he  swallers  some 
o'  the  drugs  to  fill  his  belly."  He  rapped  on 
the  panel  with  the  butt  of  the  gun. 

"Come  on  out  before  I  start  trouble." 

There  was  no  answer.  Lund  looked  un- 
certainly at  Rainey. 

"I  hate  to  start  a  rumpus  ag'in,"  he  said, 
jerking  his  head  toward  the  skipper's  room. 
"  'Count  of  her.  Reckon  he  can  stay  there  till 
after  we've  buried  Simms.  He's  safe  enough." 


THE  RIFLE  CARTRIDGES       235 

Rainey  was  a  little  surprised  at  this  show  of 
thought  fulness,  but  he  did  not  remark  on  it. 
He  was  beginning  to  think  pretty  constantly  of 
late  that  he  had  underestimated  Lund. 

The  giant's  hand  dropped  automatically  to 
the  handle  as  if  to  assure  himself  of  the  door 
being  fast.  Suddenly  it  opened  wide,  a  black 
gap,  with  only  the  gray  eye  of  the  porthole 
facing  them.  Lund  had  brought  up  the  muz- 
zle of  his  pistol  to  the  height  of  a  man's  chest, 
but  there  was  nothing  to  oppose  it. 

"Hidin',  the  damn  fool!  What  kind  of  a 
game  is  this  ?  Come  out  o'  there." 

Something  scuttled  on  the  floor  of  the  room 
— then  darted  swiftly  out  between  the  legs  of 
Lund  and  Rainey,  on  all  fours,  like  a  great 
dog.  Curlike,  it  sprawled  on  the  floor  with  a 
white  face  and  pop-eyes,  with  hands  out- 
stretched in  pleading,  knees  drawn  up  in  some 
ludicrous  attempt  at  protection,  calling  shrilly, 
in  the  voice  of  Sandy : 

"Don't  shoot,  sir!    Please  don't  shoot!" 

Lund  reached  down  and  jerked  the  roust- 


236          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

about  to  his  feet,  half  strangling  him  with  his 
grip  on  the  collar  of  the  lad's  shirt,  and  flung 
him  into  a  chair. 

"What  were  you  doin'  in  there?" 

Sandy  gulped  convulsively,  feeling  at  his 
scraggy  throat,  where  an  Adam's  apple  was 
working  up  and  down.  Speech  was  scared  out 
of  him,  and  he  could  only  roll  his  eyes  at  them. 

"You  damned  young  traitor!"  said  Lund. 
"I'll  have  you  keelhauled  for  this !  Out  with 
it,  now.  Who  sent  ye  ?  Deming  ?" 

"You've  got  him  frightened  half  to  death," 
intervened  Rainey.  "They  probably  scared 
him  into  doing  this.  Didn't  they,  Sandy?" 

The  lad  blinked,  and  tears  of  self-pity  rolled 
down  his  grimy  cheeks.  The  relief  of  them 
seemed  to  unstopper  his  voice.  That,  and  the 
kinder  quality  of  Rainey 's  questioning. 

"Deming!  He  said  he'd  cut  my  bloody 
heart  out  if  I  didn't  do  it.  Him  an'  Beale. 
Lookit." 

He  plucked  aside  the  front  of  his  almost  but- 
tonless  shirt  and  worn  undervest  and  showed 


THE  RIFLE  CARTRIDGES       237 

them  on  his  left  breast  the  scoring  where  a 
sharp  blade  had  marked  an  irregular  circle  on 
his  skin. 

"Beale  did  that/'  he  whined.  "Deming  said 
they'd  finish  the  job  if  I  come  back  without 
'em." 

"Without  the  shells?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Yes,  Mr.  Rainey.  Oh,  Gord, 
they'll  kill  me  sure !  Oh,  my  Gord !"  His  star- 
ing eyes  and  loose  mouth,  working  in  fear, 
made  him  look  like  a  fresh-landed  cod. 

"You  ain't  much  use  alive,"  said  Lund. 

"Mebbe  I  ain't,"  returned  the  lad,  with  the 
desperation  of  a  cornered  rat.  "But  I  got  a 
right  to  live.  And  I've  lived  worse'n  a  dorg 
on  this  bloody  schooner.  I'm  fair  striped  an' 
bruised  wi'  boots  an'  knuckles  an'  ends  o'  rope. 
I'd  'ave  chucked  myself  over  long  ago  if — " 

"If  what?" 

The  lad  turned  sullen. 

"Never  mind,"  he  said,  and  glared  almost 
defiantly  at  Lund. 

"Is  that  door  shut?"  the  giant  asked  Rainey. 


238          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Some  of  'em  might  be  hangin'  'round." 
Rainey  went  to  the  corridor  and  closed  and 
locked  the  entrance. 

"Now  then,  you  young  devil,"  said  Lund. 
"What  they  did  to  you  for'ard  ain't  a  marker 
on  what  I'll  do  to  you  if  you  don't  speak  up  an' 
answer  when  I  talk.  //  what?" 

Sandy  turned  to  Rainey. 

"They  said  they  was  goin'  to  give  me  some 
of  the  gold,"  he  said.  "They  said  all  along  I 
was  to  have  the  hat  go  'round  for  me.  I  told 
you  I  was  dragged  up,  but  there's — there's  an 
old  woman  who  was  good  to  me.  She's  up 
ag'in'  it  for  fair.  I  told  her  I'd  bring  her  back 
some  dough  an'  if  I  can  hang  on  an'  git  it,  I'll 
hang  on.  But  they'll  do  me  up,  now,  for 
keeps." 

Rainey  heard  Lund's  chuckle  ripen  to  a 
quiet  laugh. 

"I'm  damned  if  they  ain't  some  guts  to  the 
herrin'  after  all,"  he  said.  "Hangin'  on  to 
take  some  dough  back  to  an  old  woman  who 
ain't  even  his  mother.  Who'd  have  thought 


THE  RIFLE  CARTRIDGES       239 

it  ?  Look  here,  my  lad.  I  was  dragged  up  the 
same  way,  I  was.  An'  I  hung  on.  But  you'll 
never  git  a  cent  out  of  that  bunch.  I  don't 
know  as  they'll  have  enny  to  give  you." 

His  face  hardened.  "But  you  come  through, 
an'  I'll  see  you  git  somethin'  for  the  old 
woman.  An'  yoreself,  too.  What's  more,  you 
can  stay  aft  an'  wait  on  cabin.  If  they  lay  a 
finger  on  you,  I'll  lay  a  fist  on  them,  an' 
worse." 

"You  ain't  kiddin'  me?" 

"I  don't  kid,  my  lad.  I  don't  waste  time 
that  way." 

Sandy  stood  up,  his  face  lighting.  He  be- 
gan to  empty  his  pockets,  laying  shells  and 
shotgun  cartridges  upon  the  table. 

"I  couldn't  begin  to  git  harf  of  'em,"  he  said. 
"The  rest's  under  the  mattresses.  They  said 
they  on'y  needed  a  few.  I  thought  you  was 
both  turned  in.  When  you  come  out  of  the 
corridor  I  was  scared  nutty." 

Between  the  mattresses,  as  Lund  had 
guessed,  they  found  the  rest  of  the  shells,  laid 


240          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

out  in  orderly  rows  save  where  the  lad's  scram- 
bling fingers  had  disturbed  them.  Lund 
stripped  off  a  pillow-case  and  dumped  them  in, 
together  with  those  on  the  table. 

"You  can  bunk  here,"  he  told  the  grateful 
Sandy.  "Now  I'll  have  a  few  words  with 
Deming,  Beale  and  Company.  Want  to  come 
along,  Rainey?" 

Lund  strode  down  the  corridor,  bag  in  one 
hand,  his  gun  in  the  other.  Rainey  threw  open 
the  door  of  the  hunters'  quarters  and  discov- 
ered them  like  a  lot  of  conspirators.  Deming 
was  in  his  bunk ;  also  another  man,  whose  ribs 
Lund  had  cracked  when  he  had  kicked  him 
along  the  deck  out  of  his  way.  The  bruised 
faces  of  the  rest  showed  their  effects  from  the 
fight.  As  Lund  entered,  covering  them  with 
the  gun,  while  he  swung  down  the  heavy  slip 
on  the  table  with  a  clatter,  their  looks  changed 
from  eager  expectation  to  consternation. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

PEGGY  SIMMS 

"/CAUGHT  with  the  goods!"  said  Lund. 

V^_>4  "Two  tries  at  mutiny  in  one  day,  my 
lads.  You  want  to  git  it  into  your  boneheads 
that  I'm  runnin'  this  ship  from  now  on.  I  can 
sail  it  without  ye  and,  by  God,  I'll  set  the  bunch 
of  ye  ashore  same's  you  figgered  on  doin'  with 
me  if  you  don't  sit  up  an'  take  notice!  The 
rifles  an'  guns" — he  glanced  at  the  orderly  dis- 
play of  weapons  in  racks  on  the  wall — "are  too 
vallyble  to  chuck  over,  but  here  go  the  shells, 
ev'ry  last  one  of  them.  So  that  nips  that  little 
plan,  Deming." 

He  turned  back  the  slip  to  display  the  con- 
tents. 

"Open  a  port,  Rainey,  an'  heave  the  lot  out." 

Rainey  did  so  while  the  hunters  gazed  on  in 
silent  chagrin. 

"There's  one  thing  more,"  said  Lund,  grin- 
241 


242          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE  ' 

ning  at  them.  "If  enny  of  you  saw  a  man 
hurtin'  a  dog,  you'd  probably  fetch  him  a  wal- 
lop. But  you  don't  think  ennything  of  scarin' 
the  life  out  of  a  half-baked  kid  an'  markin'  up 
his  hide  like  a  patchwork  quilt.  Thet  kid's 
stayin'  aft  after  this.  One  of  you  monkey 
with  him,  an'  you'll  do  jest  what  he's  bin  doin', 
wish  you  was  dead  an'  overboard." 

He  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  to  the 
door,  Rainey  following. 

"Burial  of  the  skipper  at  dawn,"  said  Lund. 
"All  hands  on  deck,  clean  an'  neatly  dressed  to 
stand  by.  An'  see  yore  behavior  fits  the  oc- 
casion. Deming,  you'll  turn  out,  too.  No  ma- 
lingerin'." 

It  was  plain  that  the  news  of  the  captain's 
death  was  known  to  them.  They  showed  no 
surprise.  Rainey  was  sure  that  Tamada  had 
not  mentioned  it.  It  had  leaked  out  through 
the  grape-vine  telegraphy  of  all  ships.  Doubt- 
less, he  thought,  the  after-cabin  and  its  doings 
was  always  being  spied  upon. 

"Will   you   take   the   service   ter-morrer?" 


PEGGY  SIMMS  243 

Lund  asked  Rainey  when  they  were  back  in  the 
cabin.  "Bein'  as  yo're  an  eddicated  chap?" 

"Why — I  don't  know  it.  Is  there  a  prayer- 
book  aboard?  I  thought  the  skipper  always 
presided." 

"I'm  only  deputy-skipper  w'en  it  comes 
down  to  that,"  said  Lund.  "It  ain't  my  ship. 
I'm  jest  runnin'  it  under  contract  with  my  late 
partner.  The  ship  belongs  to  the  gal.  And 
yo're  top  officer  now,  in  the  regular  run.  As 
to  a  prayer-book,  there  ain't  sech  an  article 
aboard  to  my  knowledge.  But  I'd  like  to  have 
it  go  off  shipshape.  For  Simms'  sake  as  well 
as  the  gal's.  I  reckon  he  used  his  best  jedg- 
ment  'bout  puttin'  back  after  me  on  the  floe. 
I  might  have  done  the  same  thing  myself." 

Rainey  doubted  that  statement,  and  set  it 
down  to  Lund's  generosity.  Many  of  his  late 
words  and  actions  had  displayed  a  latent  depth 
of  feeling  that  he  had  never  credited  Lund 
with  possessing.  He  could  not  help  believing 
that,  in  some  way,  the  girl  had  brought  them 
to  the  surface. 


244          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"I  thought  I  saw  a  Bible  in  the  safe,"  he 
said,  "when  we  were  looking  for  the  shells. 
There  may  be  a  prayer-book.  I  suppose  there 
have  been  occasions  for  it.  The  mate  died  at 
sea  last  trip." 

"There  may  be,"  returned  Lund.  "That's 
where  Simms  'ud  keep  it.  He  warn't  what 
you'd  call  a  religious  man.  We'll  take  a  look 
afore  we  turn  in." 

There  were  offices  to  be  performed  for  the 
dead  captain  that  the  girl,  with  all  her  willing- 
ness, could  not  attempt.  Lund  did  not  men- 
tion them,  and  Rainey  vacillated  about  disturb- 
ing her  until  he  saw  Tamanda  go  through  the 
cabin  with  folded  canvas  and  a  flag.  The 
Japanese  tapped  on  the  door,  which  was  in- 
stantly opened  to  him.  He  had  been  ex- 
pected. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  Tamada,  with  his 
medical  experience,  was  best  fitted  for  the  task, 
but  it  seemed  to  Rainey  also  that  the  girl  had 
deliberately  ignored  their  services  and  that, 
despite  her  involuntary  admiration  of  Lund's 


PEGGY  SIMMS  245 

fight  against  odds,  or  in  revulsion  of  it,  she 
reckoned  them  hostile  to  her  sentiments.  Lund 
roused  him  by  talking  of  the  burial-service  for 
Simms. 

"You're  a  writer,"  he  said.  "What's  the 
good  of  knowin'  how  to  handle  words  if  you 
can't  fake  up  some  sort  of  a  service?  One's  as 
good  as  another,  long  as  it  sounds  like  the  real 
thing. 

"I  reckon  there's  a  God,"  he  went  on. 
"Somethin'  that  started  things,  somethin'  that 
keeps  the  stars  from  runnin'  each  other  down, 
but,  after  He  wound  up  the  clock  He  made,  I 
don't  figger  He  bothers  much  about  the  works. 

"Luck's  the  big  thing  that  counts.  We're 
all  in  on  the  deal.  Some  of  us  git  the  deuces 
an'  treys,  an'  some  git  the  aces.  If  yo're  born 
lucky  things  go  soft  for  you.  But,  if  it  warn't 
for  luck,  for  the  chance  an'  the  hope  of  it, 
things  'ud  be  upside  down  an'  plain  anarchy 
in  a  jiffy.  If  it  warn't  the  pore  devil's  idea 
that  his  luck  has  got  to  change  for  the  better, 
mebbe  ter-morrer,  he'd  start  out  an'  cut  his  own 


246          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

throat,  or  some  one  else's,  if  he  had  ginger 
enough." 

"It's  hardly  all  luck,  is  it?"  asked  Rainey. 
"Look  at  you!  You're  bigger  than  most  men, 
stronger,  better  equipped  to  get  what  you 
want." 

"Hell!"  laughed  Lund.  "I  was  lucky  to  be 
born  that  way.  But  you've  got  to  fudge  up 
some  sort  of  a  service  to  suit  the  gal.  You've 
got  that  Bible.  It  ought  to  be  easy.  Simms 
wouldn't  give  a  whoop,  enny  more'n  I  would. 
When  yo're  dead  yo're  through,  so  far's  enny 
one  can  prove  it  to  you.  A  dead  body's  a 
nuisance,  an'  the  sooner  it's  got  rid  of  the  bet- 
ter. But  if  it's  goin'  to  make  the  livin'  feel 
enny  better  for  spielin'  off  some  fine  words, 
why,  hop  to  it  an'  make  up  yore  speech." 

Peggy  Simms  saved  Rainey  by  producing  a 
prayer-book,  bringing  it  to  Lund,  her  face  pale 
but  composed  enough,  and  her  shadowed  eyes 
calm  as  she  gave  it  to  him. 

"I  reckon  Rainey  here  'ud  read  it  better'n 
me,"  he  said.  "He's  a  scholar." 


PEGGY  SIMMS  247 

"If  you  will,"  asked  the  girl.  She  seemed 
to  have  outworn  her  first  sorrow,  to  have  ob- 
tained a  grip  of  herself  that,  with  the  dignity 
of  her  bereavement,  the  very  control  of  her 
undoubted  grief,  set  up  a  barrier  between  her 
and  Lund.  Rainey  was  conscious  of  this  fence 
behind  which  the  girl  had  retreated.  She  was 
polite,  but  she  did  not  ask  this  service  as  a 
favor,  as  a  friendly  act.  Refusal,  even,  would 
not  have  visibly  affected  her,  he  fancied. 
There  was  an  invisible  armor  about  her  that 
might  be  added  to  at  any  moment  by  a  shield 
of  silent  scorn.  Somehow,  if  sex  had,  for  a 
swift  moment,  brought  her  and  Lund  into  any 
contact,  that  same  sex,  showing  another  aspect, 
set  them  far  apart. 

Lund  showed  that  he  felt  it,  running  his 
splay  fingers  through  his  beard  in  evident  em- 
barrassment, while  Rainey  took  the  book 
silently,  looking  through  the  pages  for  the 
ritual  of  "Burial  at  Sea." 

Arrangements  had  been  made  on  deck  long 
before  dawn.  A  section  of  the  rail  had  been 


248          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

removed  and  a  grating  arranged  that  could  be 
tipped  at  the  right  moment  for  the  consign- 
ment of  the  captain's  body  to  the  deep. 

The  sea  was  running  in  long  heaves,  and 
the  sun  rose  in  a  clear  sky.  The  ocean  was 
free  from  ice,  though  the  wind  was  cold.  Here 
and  there  a  berg,  far  off,  caught  the  sparkle 
of  the  sun  and,  to  the  north,  parallel  to  their 
course,  the  peaks  of  the  Aleutian  Isles,  broken 
buttresses  of  an  ancient  seabridge,  showed 
sharply  against  the  horizon. 

At  four  bells  in  the  morning  watch  all  hands 
had  assembled,  save  for  Tamada  and  Hansen, 
who  appeared  bearing  the  canvas-enveloped, 
flag-draped  body  of  Simms,  his  sea-shroud 
weighted  by  heavy  pieces  of  iron.  Peggy 
Simms  followed  them,  and,  as  the  crew,  with 
shuffling  feet  and  throats  that  were  repeatedly 
cleared,  gathered  in  a  semicircle,  she  arranged 
the  folds  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes  that  Hansen 
attached  to  a  light  line  by  one  corner. 

Whatever  Lund  affected,  the  solemnity  of 
the  occasion  held  the  men.  They  uncovered 


PEGGY  SIMMS  249 

and  stood  with  bowed  heads  that  hid  the 
bruised  faces  of  the  hunters.  Lund's  own 
damaged  features  were  lowered  as  Rainey 
commenced  to  read.  Only  Deming's  face,  gray 
from  the  effort  of  coming  on  deck  and  the  pain 
in  his  arm,  held  the  semblance  of  a  sneer  that 
was  largely  bravado.  A  hunter  had  his  arm 
tucked  in  that  of  his  comrade  with  the  broken 
ribs.  A  seaman  was  told  off  to  the  wheel  and 
the  schooner  was  held  to  the  wind  with  all 
sheets  close  inboard,  rising  and  falling  on  an 
almost  level  keel. 

"And  the  body  shall  be  cast  into  the  sea." 
At  the  words  Lund  and  Hansen  tilted  the 
grating.  There  was  a  slight  pause  as  if  the 
body  were  reluctant  to  start  on  its  last  journey, 
and  then  it  slid  from  the  platform  and  plunged 
into  the  sea,  disappearing  instantly  under  the 
urge  of  the  weights,  with  a  hissing  aeration  of 
the  water.  The  flag,  held  inboard  by  the  line, 
fluttered  a  moment  and  subsided  over  the  grat- 
ing. The  girl  turned  toward  them,  her  head  up. 
"Thank  you,"  she  said,  and  went  below. 


250          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"That's  over,"  said  Lund,  letting  out  what- 
ever emotions  he  might  have  repressed  in  a 
long  breath.  "Now,  then,  trim  ship!  Watch- 
off,  get  below.  We're  goin'  to  drive  her  for  all 
she's  worth." 

He  took  the  wheel  himself  as  the  men 
jumped  to  the  sheets  and  soon  Lund  was  get- 
ting every  foot  of  possible  speed  out  of  the 
schooner.  He  was  as  good  a  sailor  as  Simms, 
inclined  to  take  more  chances,  but  capable  of 
handling  them. 

The  girl  kept  below  and  seldom  came  out 
of  her  cabin,  Tamada  serving  her  meals  in 
there.  Rainey  could  see  Lund's  resentment 
growing  at  this  attitude  that  seemed  to  him 
normal  enough,  though  it  might  present  diffi- 
culty later  if  persisted  in.  But  the  morning 
that  they  headed  up  through  Sequam  Pass  be- 
tween the  spouting  reefs  of  Sequam  and  Amlia 
Islands,  she  came  on  deck  and  went  forward 
to  the  bows,  taking  in  deep  breaths  of  the  brac- 
ing air  and  gazing  north  to  the  free  expanse  of 


PEGGY  SIMMS  251 

Bering  Strait.  Rainey  left  her  alone,  but  Lund 
welcomed  her  as  she  came  back  aft. 

"Glad  to  see  you  on  deck  again,  Miss 
Peggy,"  he  said.  "You  need  sun  and  air  to 
git  you  in  shape  again." 

His  glance  held  vivid  admiration  of  her  as 
he  spoke,  a  glance  that  ran  over  her  rounded 
figure  with  a  frank  approval  that  Rainey  re- 
sented, but  to  which  the  girl  paid  no  attention. 
She  seemed  to  have  made  up  her  mind  to  a 
change  of  attitude. 

"How  far  have  we  yet  to  go?"  she  asked. 

"A'most  a  thousan'  miles  to  the  Strait 
proper,"  said  Lund.  "The  Nome-Unalaska 
steamer  lane  lies  to  the  east.  Runs  close  to  the 
Pribilofs,  three  hundred  miles  north,  with 
Hall  an'  St.  Matthew  three  hundred  further. 
Then  comes  St.  Lawrence  Isle,  plumb  in  the 
middle  of  the  Strait,  with  Siberia  an'  Alaska 
closin'  in." 

He  was  keen  to  hold  her  in  conversation, 
and  she  willing  to  listen,  assenting  almost 


252          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

eagerly  when  he  offered  to  point  out  their  posi- 
tions on  the  chart,  spread  on  the  cabin  table, 
Lund  talked  well,  for  all  his  limited  and  at 
times  luridly  inclined  vocabulary,  whenever  he 
talked  of  the  sea  and  of  his  own  adventures, 
stating  them  without  brag,  but  bringing  up 
striking  pictures  of  action,  full  of  the  color  and 
savor  of  life  in  the  raw.  From  that  time  on 
Peggy  Simms  came  to  the  table  and  talked 
freely  with  Lund,  more  conservatively  with 
Rainey. 

The  newspaperman  was  no  experienced 
analyst  of  woman  nature,  but  he  saw,  or 
thought  he  saw,  the  girl  watching  Lund  closely 
when  he  talked,  studying  him,  sometimes  with 
more  than  a  hint  of  approbation,  at  others 
with  a  look  that  was  puzzled,  seeming  to  be 
working  at  a  problem.  The  giant's  liking  for 
her,  boyish  at  times,  or  swiftly  changing  to 
bolder  appraisal,  grew  daily. 

The  girl,  Rainey  decided,  was  humoring 
Lund,  seeking  to  know  how  with  her  feminine 
methods  she  might  control  him,  keep  him 


PEGGY  SIMMS  253 

within  bounds.  Her  coldness,  it  seemed,  she 
had  cast  aside  as  an  expedient  that  might  prove 
too  provoking  and  worthless. 

And  Rainey's  valuation  of  her  resources  in- 
creased. She  was  handling  her  woman's 
weapons  admirably,  yet  when  he  sometimes,  at 
night,  under  the  cabin  lamp,  saw  the  smolder- 
ing light  glowing  in  Lund's  agate  eyes,  he 
knew  that  she  was  playing  a  dangerous  game. 

"What  d'ye  figger  on  doin'  with  yore  share, 
Rainey?"  Lund  asked  him  the  night  that  they 
passed  Nome.  It  was  stormy  weather  in  the 
Strait,  and  the  Karluk  was  snugged  down  un- 
der treble  reefs,  fighting  her  way  north.  Ice 
in  the  Narrows  was  scarce,  though  Lund  pre- 
dicted broken  floes  once  they  got  through.  The 
cabin  was  cozy,  with  a  stove  going.  Peggy 
Simms  was  busied  with  some  sewing,  the 
canary  and  the  plants  gave  the  place  a  do- 
mestic atmosphere,  and  Lund,  smoking  com- 
fortably, was  eminently  at  ease. 

"  'Cordin'  to  the  way  the  men  figgered  it 
out,"  he  went  on,  "though  I  reckon  they're  un- 


254          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

der  the  mark  more'n  over  it,  you'll  have  forty 
thousan'  dollars.  That's  quite  a  windfall, 
though  nothin'  to  Miss  Peggy,  here,  or  me, 
for  that  matter.  I  s'pose  you  got  it  all  spent 
already." 

"I  don't  know  that  I  have,"  said  Rainey. 
"But  I  think,  if  all  goes  well,  I'll  get  a  place 
up  in  the  Coast  Range,  in  the  redwoods  look- 
ing over  the  sea,  and  write.  Not  newspaper 
stuff,  but  what  I've  always  wanted  to.  Stories. 
Yarns  of  adventure!" 

Peggy  Simms  looked  up. 

"You've  never  done  that?"  she  asked. 

"Not  satisfactorily.  I  suppose  that  genius 
burns  in  a  garret,  but  I  don't  imagine  myself 
a  genius  and  I  don't  like  garrets.  I've  an  idea 
I  can  write  better  when  I  don't  have  to  stand 
the  bread-and-butter  strain  of  routine." 

"Coin'  to  write  second-hand  stuff?"  asked 
Lund.  "Why  don't  you  live  what  you  write  ? 
I  don't  see  how  yo're  goin'  to  git  under  a 
man's  skin  by  squattin'  in  a  bungalow  with  a 
Jap  servant,  a  porcelain  bathtub,  an'  breakfast 


PEGGY  SIMMS  255 

in  bed.  Why  don't  you  travel  an'  see  stuff  as 
it  is?  How  in  blazes  are  you  goin'  to  write 
Adventure  if  you  don't  live  it? 

"Me,  I'm  goin'  to  git  a  schooner  built  ac- 
cordin'  to  my  own  ideas.  Have  a  kicker  en- 
gine in  it,  mebbe,  an'  go  round  the  world. 
What's  the  use  of  livin'  on  it  an'  not  knowin' 
it  by  sight?  Books  and  pictures  are  all  right 
in  their  way,  I  reckon,  but,  while  my  riggin' 
holds  up,  I'm  for  travel.  Mebbe  I'll  take  a 
group  of  islands  down  in  the  South  Seas  after 
a  bit  an'  make  somethin'  out  of  'em.  Not  jest 
copra  an'  pearl-shell,  but  cotton  an'  rubber." 

"A  king  and  his  kingdom,"  suggested  the 
girl. 

"Aye,  an*  mebbe  a  queen  to  go  with  it,"  re- 
plied Lund,  his  eyes  wide  open  in  a  look  that 
made  the  girl  flush  and  Rainey  feel  the  hidden 
issue  that  he  felt  was  bound  to  come,  rising  to 
the  surface. 

"That's  a  man's  life,"  went  on  Lund. 
"Travel's  all  right,  but  a  man's  got  to  do  some- 
thin',  buck  somethin',  start  somethin'.  An'  a 


256          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

red-blooded  man  wants  the  right  kind  of  a 
woman  to  play  mate.  Polish  off  his  rough 
edges,  mebbe.  I'd  rather  be  a  rough  castin' 
that  could  stand  filin'  a  bit,  than  smooth  an' 
plated.  An',  when  I  find  the  right  woman,  one 
of  my  own  breed,  I'm  goin'  to  tie  to  her  an' 
her  to  me. 

"I'm  goin'  to  be  rich.  They've  cleaned  up 
the  sands  of  Nome,  but  there's  others'll  be 
found  yit  between  Cape  Hope  an'  Cape  Barry. 
Meantime,  we've  got  a  placer  of  our  own. 
With  plenty  of  gold  they  ain't  much  limit  to 
what  a  man  can  do.  I've  roughed  it  all  my 
life,  an'  I'm  not  lookin'  for  ease.  It  makes  a 
man  soft.  But — " 

He  swept  the  figure  of  the  girl  in  a  pause 
that  was  eloquent  of  his  line  of  thought.  She 
grew  uneasy  of  it,  but  Lund  maintained  it  until 
she  raised  her  eyes  from  her  work  and  chal- 
lenged his.  Rainey  saw  her  breast  heave,  saw 
her  struggle  to  hold  the  gaze,  turn  red,  then 
pale.  He  thought  her  eyes  showed  fear,  and 
then  she  stiffened.  Almost  unconsciously  she 


PEGGY  SIMMS  257 

raised  her  hand  to  where  Rainey  was  sure 
she  kept  the  little  pistol,  touched  something  as 
though  to  assure  herself  of  its  presence,  and 
went  on  sewing.  Lund  chuckled,  but  shifted 
his  eyes  to  Rainey. 

"Why  don't  you  write  up  this  v'yage? 
When  it's  all  over?  There's  adventure  for 
you,  an'  we  ain't  ha'f  through  with  it.  An* 
romance,  too,  mebbe.  We  ain't  developed 
much  of  a  love-story  as  yit,  but  you  never  can 
tell." 

He  laughed,  and  Peggy  Simms  got  up 
quietly,  folded  her  sewing,  and  said  "Good 
night"  composedly  before  she  went  to  her 
room. 

"How  about  it,  Rainey?"  quizzed  Lund. 
"How  about  the  love  part  of  it?  She's  a 
beauty,  an'  she'll  be  an  heiress.  Ain't  you 
got  enny  red  blood  in  yore  veins?  Don't  you 
want  her?  You  won't  find  many  to  hold  a 
candle  to  her.  Looks,  built  like  a  racin'  yacht, 
smooth  an'  speedy.  Smart,  an'  rich  into  the 
bargain.  Why  don't  you  make  love  to  her?" 


258          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Rainey  felt  the  burning  blood  mounting  to 
his  face  and  brain. 

"I  am  not  in  love  with  Miss  Simms,"  he 
said.  "If  I  was  I  should  not  try  to  make  love 
to  her  under  the  circumstances.  She's  alone, 
and  she's  fatherless.  I  do  not  care  to  discuss 
her." 

"She's  a  woman,"  said  Lund.  "And  yo're 
a  damned  prig!  You'd  like  to  bust  me  in  the 
jaw,  but  you  know  I'm  stronger.  You've  got 
some  guts,  Rainey,  but  yo're  hidebound.  You 
ain't  got  ha'f  the  git-up-an'-go  to  ye  that  she 
has.  She's  a  woman,  I  tell  you,  an'  she's  to 
be  won.  If  you  want  her,  why  don't  you  stand 
up  an'  try  to  git  her  'stead  of  sittin'  around 
like  a  sick  cat  whenever  I  happen  to  admire  her 
looks? 

"I've  seen  you.  I  ain't  blind  enny  longer, 
you  know.  She's  a  woman  an'  I'm  a  man.  I 
thought  you  was  one.  But  you  ain't.  Yore 
idea  of  makin'  love  is  to  send  the  gal  a  box  of 
candy  an'  walk  pussy-footed  an'  write  poems  to 
her.  You  want  to  write  life  an'  I  want  to  live 


PEGGY  SIMMS  259 

it.  So  does  a  gal  like  that.  She's  more  my 
breed  than  yores,  if  she  has  got  eddication. 
An'  she's  flesh  and  blood.  Same  as  I  am. 
Yo're  half  sawdust.  Yo're  stuffed." 

He  went  on  deck  laughing,  leaving  Rainey 
raging  but  helpless.  Lund  appeared  to  think 
the  situation  obvious.  Two  men,  and  a  woman 
who  was  attractive  in  many  ways.  The  only 
woman  while  they  were  aboard  the  schooner, 
therefore  the  more  to  be  desired,  admired  by 
men  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 

He  expected  Rainey  to  be  in  love  with  her, 
to  stand  up  and  say  so,  to  endeavor  to  win 
her.  Lund  sought  the  ardor  of  competition. 
He  might  be  looking  for  the  excuse  to  crush 
Rainey. 

But  he  had  said  she  was  of  his  breed,  and 
that  was  a  true  saying.  If  Lund  was  a  son  of 
the  sea,  she  was  a  daughter  of  a  line  of  sea- 
men. Lund,  sooner  or  later,  meant  to  take 
her,  willing  or  unwilling.  He  had  said  so, 
none  too  covertly,  that  very  evening.  And,  if 
Rainey  meant  to  stand  between  her  and  Lund 


260          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

as  a  protector,  Lund  would  accept  him  in  that 
character  only  as  the  girl's  lover  and  his  rival. 

And  Rainey  did  not  know  whether  he  was  in 
love  with  her  or  not.  He  could  not  even  be 
certain  of  the  girl.  There  were  times  when 
Lund  seemed  to  fascinate  her.  One  thing  he 
braced  himself  to  do,  to  be  ready  to  aid  her 
against  Lund  if  occasion  came,  and  she  needed 
protection.  The  luck,  as  Lund  phrased  it,  that 
had  given  brawn  to  the  giant,  had  given  Rainey 
brains.  When  the  time  came  he  would  use 
them. 

After  this  the  girl  avoided  Lund's  company 
as  much  as  possible  by  seeking  Rainey's.  They 
worked  through  the  Strait  and  headed  into  the 
Arctic  Ocean.  Ice  was  all  about  them,  fields 
formed  of  vast  blocks  of  frozen  water  divided 
by  broad  lanes  through  which  the  Karluk 
slowly  made  her  way,  a  maze  of  ice,  always 
threatening,  calling  for  all  of  Lund's  skill  while 
he  fumed  at  every  barrier,  every  change  of  the 
weather  that  grew  steadily  colder. 

The  sky  was  never  entirely  unveiled  by  mist, 


PEGGY  SIMMS  261 

and  at  night,  as  they  sailed  down  a  frozen  fiord 
with  lookouts  doubled,  the  grinding  smashing 
noises  of  the  ice  seemed  the  warning  voice  of 
the  North,  as  they  sailed  on  into  the  wilder- 
ness. 

The  hunters  kept  below.  Lund  bossed  the 
ship.  Deming,  it  seemed,  managed  to  hold  his 
cards  and  deal  them  despite  his  mending  arm 
in  splints.  And  he  was  steadily  winning.  The 
girl  talked  with  Rainey  of  her  own  life  ashore 
and  at  sea  on  earlier  trips  with  her  father,  of 
his  own  desire  to  write,  of  his  ambitions,  until 
there  was  little  he  had  not  told  her,  even  to  the 
girl  who  was  the  daughter  of  the  Lumber 
King. 

And  the  spell  of  her  nearness,  her  youth, 
her  beauty,  naturally  held  him.  When  he  was 
on  deck  duty  she  remained  in  her  room.  When 
Lund  relieved  him,  the  day's  work  giving 
Lund,  Hansen,  and  Rainey  each  two  regular 
watches  of  four  hours,  though  Lund  put  in 
most  of  the  night  as  the  ice  grew  more  difficult 
to  navigate^  Rainey  occasionally  saw  the 


262          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

giant's  eyes  sizing  him  up  with  a  sardonic 
twinkle. 

For  the  time  being,  the  safety  of  the  Karluk 
and  the  successful  carrying  out  of  the  pur- 
pose of  the  trip  took  all  of  Lund's  attention 
and  energy.  Twice  he  had  been  thwarted  by 
the  weather  from  gleaning  his  golden  harvest, 
and  it  began  to  look  as  if  the  third  attempt 
might  be  no  more  fortunate. 

"The  Karluk 's  stout,"  he  said  once,  "but  she 
ain't  built  for  the  Arctic.  If  we  git  nipped 
badly  she'll  go  like  an  eggshell." 

"And  then  what  ?"  Rainey  asked. 

"Git  the  gold!  That's  what  we  come  for. 
If  we  have  to  make  sleds  an'  use  the  hunters 
for  a  dorg-team."  He  laughed  indomitably. 
"We'll  make  a  man  of  you  yit,  Rainey,  afore 
we  git  back." 

Lund  was  snatching  sleep  in  scraps,  seeking 
always  to  feel  a  way  toward  the  position  of  the 
island  through  the  ice  that  continually  baffled 
progress.  Several  times  they  risked  the 


PEGGY  SIMMS  263 

schooner  in  a  narrow  lane  when  a  lull  of  the 
often  uncertain  wind  would  have  seen  them 
ground  between  the  edges  of  the  floe.  Twice 
Lund  ordered  out  the  boats  to  save  them. 
Once  all  hands  fended  desperately  with  spars 
to  keep  her  clear,  and  only  the  schooner's  over- 
hung stern  saved  her  rudder  from  the  savagely 
clashing  masses  that  closed  behind  them. 

But  he  showed  few  signs  of  strain.  Once  in 
a  while  he  would  sit  with  closed  eyes  or  pass 
his  hands  across  his  brows  as  if  they  pained 
him.  But  he  never  complained,  and  the  ice, 
taking  on  the  dull  hues  of  sea  and  sky,  gave  off 
no  glare  that  should  affect  the  sight.  Against 
all  opposition  Lund  forced  his  way  until,  just 
after  sunset  one  night,  as  the  dusk  swept  down, 
he  gave  a  shout  and  pointed  to  a  fitful  flare 
over  the  port  bow.  Rainey  thought  it  the  au- 
rora, but  Lund  laughed  at  him. 

"It's  the  crater  atop  the  island,"  he  said. 
"Nothin'  dangerous.  Regular  lighthouse. 
Now,  boys,"  he  went  on,  his  deep  voice  ring- 


264          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

ing  with  exhilaration,  "there's  gold  in  sight! 
Whistle  for  a  change  of  weather,  every  moth- 
er's son  of  you!" 

The  deck  was  soon  crowded.  On  the  pre- 
vious trip  the  schooner  had  approached  the 
island  from  a  different  angle,  but  the  men  were 
swift  to  acknowledge  the  glow  of  the  volcano 
as  the  expected  landfall.  Lund  remained  on 
deck,  and  it  was  late  before  any  of  the  crew 
turned  in.  Rainey,  during  his  watch,  saw  the 
mountain  fire-pulse,  glowing  and  winking  like 
the  eye  of  a  Cyclops,  its  gleam  reflected  in  the 
eyes  of  the  watchers  who  were  about  to  invade 
the  island  and  rob  it  of  its  golden  sands. 

The  change  of  weather  came  about  three  in 
the  morning,  though  not  as  Lund  had  hoped. 
A  sudden  wind  materialized  from  the  north, 
stiffening  the  canvas  with  its  ice-laden  breath, 
glazing  the  schooner  wherever  moisture 
dripped,  bringing  up  an  angry  scud  of  clouds 
that  fought  with  the  moon.  The  sea  appeared 
to  have  thickened.  The  Karluk  went  slug- 
gishly, as  if  she  was  sailing  in  a  sea  of  treacle. 


PEGGY  SIMMS  265 

"Half  slush  already,"  said  Lund.  "We're 
in  for  a  real  cold  snap.  There'll  be  pancake  ice 
all  around  us  afore  dawn.  That  is  sure  a  hard 
beach  to  fetch.  But  it's  too  early  for  winter 
closing.  After  this  nip  we'll  have  a  warm  spell. 
An'  we  got  to  git  the  stuff  aboard  an'  start 
kitin'  south  afore  the  big  freeze-up  catches  us." 


CHAPTER  XV 

SMOKE 

WHEN  Rainey  came  on  deck  the  next 
morning  he  found  the  schooner  float- 
ing in  a  small  lagoon  that  made  the  center  of 
a  floe.  The  water  in  it  was  slush,  half  solid. 
Main  and  fore  were  close  furled,  the  headsails 
also,  and  the  Karluk  was  nosing  against  the 
far  end  of  the  rapidly  diminishing  basin.  The 
wind  was  still  lively. 

All  about  were  other  floes,  but  they  were 
widely  separated,  and  between  them  crisp 
waves  of  indigo  were  curling  snappily. 

The  island  stood  up  sharp  and  jagged,  much 
larger  than  Rainey  had  anticipated.  It  boasted 
two  cones,  from  one  of  which  smoke  wras  lazily 
trailing.  Ice  was  piled  in  wild  confusion  about 
its  shores,  wrecked  by  the  gale  that  had  blown 
266 


SMOKE  267 

hard  from  four  till  eight,  and  was  now  sub- 
siding with  the  swift  change  common  to  the 
Arctic. 

A  deep  hum  of  bursting  surf  undertoned  all 
other  noises  and,  prisoned  as  she  was,  the 
schooner  and  her  floe  were  sweeping  slowly 
toward  the  land  in  the  grip  of  a  current  rather 
than  before  the  gusty  wind. 

Lund  had  fendered  the  schooner's  bows 
effectively  before  he  went  below  with  old  sails 
that  enveloped  stem  and  swell,  stuffed  with 
ropes  and  bits  of  canvas. 

Within  an  hour  the  wind  had  ceased  and 
the  slush  in  the  lagoon  had  pancaked  into  flakes 
of  forming  ice  that  bid  fair  to  become  solid 
within  a  short  time,  for  the  day  was  bitterly 
cold  and  tremendously  bright.  The  sky  rose 
from  filmy  silver-azure  to  richest  sapphire,  and 
the  rolling  waters  between  the  floes  were  dark- 
est purple-blue.  As  the  whip  of  the  wind 
ceased  they  settled  to  a  vast  swell  on  which 
the  great  clumps  of  ice  rose  and  fell  with  daz- 
zling reflections. 


268          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Lund  came  up  within  the  hour  and  stood 
blinking  at  the  brilliance. 

"My  eyes  ain't  as  strong  yit  as  they  should 
be,"  he  said  to  Rainey.  "I  shouldn't  have 
slung  them  glasses  so  hasty  at  Carlsen,  though 
they  sp'iled  his  aim,  at  that.  If  this  weather 
keeps  up  I'll  have  to  make  snow-specs;  there 
ain't  another  pair  of  smokes  aboard."  He 
made  a  shade  of  his  curved  hand  as  he  gazed 
at  the  island. 

"Current's  got  us,"  he  said,  "an'  we'll  fetch 
up  mighty  close  to  the  beach.  It  lies  between 
those  two  ridges,  close  together,  buttin'  out 
from  the  volcano.  Long  Strait  current  splits 
on  Wrangell  Island,  and  we're  in  the  trend  of 
the  northern  loop.  That's  why  the  sea  don't 
freeze  up  more  solid.  It's  freezin'  fast  enough 
round  us,  where  there  ain't  motion." 

He  seemed  well  satisfied  with  the  prospect. 
"Had  breakfast?"  he  asked  Rainey,  and  then: 
"All  right.  We'll  git  the  men  aft." 

He  bellowed  an  order,  and  soon  every  one 
came  trooping,  to  gather  in  two  groups  either 


SMOKE  269 

side  of  the  cabin  skylight.  Their  faces  were 
eager  with  the  proximity  of  the  gold,  yet  half 
sullen  as  they  waited  to  hear  what  Lund  had  to 
say.  Since  the  attempt  against  him  Lund  had 
said  nothing  about  their  shares.  They 
acknowledged  him  as  master,  but  they  still  re- 
belled in  spirit. 

"There's  the  island/'  said  Lund.  "We'll 
make  it  afore  sundown.  The  beach  is  there, 
waitin'  for  us  to  dig  it  up.  It'll  be  some  job. 
I  don't  reckon  it's  frozen  hard,  on'y  crusted. 
If  it  is  we'll  bust  the  crust  with  dynamite.  But 
we  got  to  hop  to  it.  There'll  be  another  cold 
spell  after  this  one  peters  out  an'  the  next  is 
like  to  be  permanent.  I  want  the  gold  washed 
out  afore  then,  an'  us  well  down  the  Strait. 
It's  up  to  you  to  hump  yoreselves,  an'  I'll  help 
the  humpin'. 

"We'll  cradle  most  of  the  stuff  an',  if  they's 
time,  we'll  flume  the  silt  tailin's  for  the  fine 
dust.  Providin'  we  can  git  a  fall  of  water. 
There'll  be  plenty  for  all  hands  to  do.  An' 
the  shares  go  as  first  fixed.  I  ain't  expectin' 


270          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

you  to  do  the  diggin'  an'  not  git  a  pinch  or  two 
of  the  dust." 

The  men's  faces  lighted,  and  they  shuffled 
about,  looking  at  one  another  with  grins  of 
relief. 

"No  cheers  ?"  asked  Lund  ironically.  "Wall, 
I  hardly  expected  enny.  Hansen,  you'll  be  one 
of  the  foremen,  with  pay  accordin'.  Deming." 

"I  can't  dig,"  said  the  hunter  truculently. 
"Neither  can  Beale,  with  his  ribs." 

"You've  got  a  sweet  nerve,"  said  Lund.  "I 
reckon  you've  won  enough  to  be  sure  of  yore 
shares,  if  the  boys  pay  up.  Enough  for  you 
to  do  some  diggin'  in  yore  pockets  for  Beale. 
His  ribs  'ud  be  whole  if  you  hadn't  started  the 
bolshevik  stunt.  But  I'll  find  something  for 
both  of  you  to  do.  Don't  let  that  worry  you 
none. 

"We've  got  mercury  aboard  somewhere," 
Lund  continued,  to  Rainey,  when  the  men  had 
dispersed,  far  more  cheerful  than  they  had 
gathered.  "We'll  use  that  for  concentration  in 
the  film  riffles.  Hansen'll  have  rockers  made 


SMOKE  271 

that'll  catch  the  big  stuff.  If  the  worst  comes 
to  the  worst,  we'll  load  up  the  old  hooker  with 
the  pay  dirt  an'  wash  it  out  on  the  way  home. 
I'll  strip  that  beach  down  to  bedrock  if  I  have 
to  work  the  toes  an'  fingers  off  'em." 

By  noon  the  schooner  was  glazed  in  as 
firmly  as  a  toy  model  that  is  mounted  in  a  glass 
sea.  The  wind  blew  itself  entirely  out,  but  the 
current  bore  them  steadily  on  to  the  clamorous 
shore,  where  the  swells  were  creating  promon- 
tories, bays,  cliffs  and  chasms  in  the  piled-up 
confusion  of  the  floes  pounding  on  the  rocks, 
breaking  up  or  sliding  atop  one  another  in  noisy 
confusion. 

The  marble- whiteness  of  the  ice  masses  was 
set  off  by  the  blues  and  soft  violets  of  their 
shadows,  and  by  a  pearly  sheen  wherever  the 
planes  caught  the  light  at  a  proper  slant  for 
the  play  of  prisms.  Beautiful  as  it  was,  the 
sight  was  fearful  to  Rainey,  in  common  with 
the  crew.  Only  Lund  surveyed  it  noncha- 
lantly. 

"It's  bustin'  up  fast,"  he  said.    "All  we  need 


272          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

is  a  little  luck.  If  we  ain't  got  that  there's  no 
use  of  worryin'.  We  can't  blast  ourselves  out 
o'  this  without  riskin'  the  schooner.  We  ought 
to  be  thankful  we  froze  in  gentle.  There 
ain't  a  plank  started.  The  floe'll  fend  us  off. 
There  ain't  enny  big  chunks  enny  way  near  us 
aft.  Luck — to  make  a  decent  landin' — is  all 
we  need,  an'  it's  my  hunch  it's  comin'  our 
way." 

His  "hunch"  was  correct.  Though  they  did 
not  actually  make  the  little  bay  on  which  the 
treasure  beach  debouched,  they  fetched  up  near 
it  against  a  broken  hill  of  ice  that  had  lodged 
on  the  sharp  slopes  of  a  little  promontory, 
making  the  connection  without  further  damage 
than  a  splitting  of  the  forward  end  of  their 
encasing  floe,  with  hardly  a  jar  to  the  Karluk. 

Lund  sent  men  ashore  over  the  ice,  climbing 
to  the  promontory  crags  with  hawsers  by 
which  they  tied  up  schooner,  floe  and  all,  to  the 
land.  If  the  broken  hill  suffered  further  catas- 
trophe, which  did  not  seem  likely,  its  frag- 
ments would  fall  upon  the  floe.  In  case  of 


SMOKE  273 

emergency  Lund  ordered  men  told  off  day  and 
night  to  stand  by  the  hawsers,  to  cast  loose  or 
cut,  as  the  extremity  needed. 

The  main  danger  threatened  from  follow- 
ing floes  piling  up  on  theirs  and  ramming  over 
it  to  smash  the  schooner,  but  that  was  a  risk 
that  must  be  met  as  it  evolved,  and  there  did 
not  seem  much  prospect  of  the  happening. 

It  was  dark  before  they  were  snugged.  The 
men  volunteered,  through  Hansen,  to  com- 
mence digging  that  night  by  the  light  of  big 
fires,  so  crazy  were  they  at  the  nearness  of 
the  gold.  But  Lund  forbade  it. 

"You'll  work  reg'lar  shifts  when  you  git 
started,"  he  said.  "An'  you  won't  start  till  ter- 
morrer.  We've  got  to  stand  by  the  ship  ter- 
night  until  we  find  out  by  mornin'  how  snug 
we're  goin'  to  be  berthed." 

All  night  long  they  lay  in  a  pandemonium  of 
noise.  After  a  while  they  would  become  used 
to  it  as  do  the  workers  in  a  stampmill,  but  that 
night  it  deafened  them,  kept  them  awake  and 
alert,  fearful,  with  the  tremendous  cannonad- 


274          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

ing.  The  bite  of  the  frost  made  the  timbers 
of  the  Karluk  creak  and  its  thrust  continually 
worked  among  the  stranded  masses  with 
groaning  thunders  and  shrill  grindings,  while 
the  surf  ever  boomed  on  the  resonant  sheets 
of  ice. 

The  place  held  a  strange  mystery.  On  top 
of  the  main  cone  the  volcanic  glow  hung  above 
the  crater  chimney,  reflected  waveringly  on  the 
rolling  clouds  of  smoke  that  blotted  out  the 
stars.  There  were  no  tremors,  no  rumblings 
from  the  hidden  furnace,  only  the  flare  of  its 
stoking.  The  stars  that  were  visible  were  in- 
tensely brilliant  points,  and,  when  the  moon 
rose,  it  was  accompanied  by  four  mock  moons 
bound  in  a  halo  that  widely  encircled  the  true 
orb.  The  moon-dogs  shone  intermittently  with 
prismatic  colors,  like  disks  of  mother-of-pearl, 
and  the  moon  itself  was  four-rayed. 

Under  moon  and  stars  the  coast  snaked 
away  to  end  in  a  deceptive  glimmer  that  per- 
sisted beyond  the  eye-range  of  definite  dimen- 
sions. And,  despite  all  the  sound,  muffled  and 


SMOKE  275 

sharp,  of  splinterings  and  explosions,  of  the 
reverberation  of  the  swell,  outside  all  this 
clamor,  silence  seemed  to  gather  and  to  wait. 
Silence  and  loneliness.  It  awed  the  crew,  it 
invested  the  spirits  of  Peggy  Simms  and 
Rainey,  gazing  at  the  mystic  beauty  of  the 
Arctic  landscape. 

The  walls  of  forced-up  ice  shifted  about 
them  and  came  clattering  down,  booming  on 
their  floe  as  if  it  had  been  a  drum,  and  threat- 
ening to  tilt  it  by  sheer  weight  had  they  not 
been  fairly  grounded  forward.  Other  floes 
came  from  seaward  to  batter  at  the  cliffs,  but 
the  eddy  that  had  brought  them  to  their  rest- 
ing-place seemed  to  have  been  dissolved  in  the 
main  current  and,  save  for  an  occasional 
alarm,  their  stern  was  not  seriously  invaded. 

Only,  as  the  night  wore  on,  the  floating 
masses  became  cemented  to  one  another  and  the 
shore.  The  Karluk  was  hard  and  fast  within 
two  hundred  yards  of  her  Tom  Tiddler's 
ground,  just  over  the  promontory.  If  a  thaw 
came,  all  should  go  well.  If  Lund  had  been 


276          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

deceived,  and  the  true  winter  was  setting  in 
early,  the  prospects  were  far  from  cheerful, 
though  no  one  seemed  to  think  of  that  possi- 
bility. 

Beneath  the  glamour  of  the  magic  night,  the. 
weird  paraselene  of  the  moon's  phenomenon, 
the  glow  of  the  volcano,  the  noises,  the  men 
whispered  of  one  thing  only — Gold! 

Dawn  came  before  they  were  aware  of  it,  a 
sudden  rush  of  light  that  dyed  the  ice  in  every 
hue  of  red  and  orange,  that  tipped  the  frozen 
coast  with  bursts  of  ruby  flame  that  flared 
like  beacons  and  gilded  the  crests  of  the  long 
swells,  tinging  all  their  world  with  a  wild,  un- 
natural glory. 

Lund,  striding  the  deck,  his  red  beard  iced 
with  his  breath,  suddenly  stopped  and  stared 
into  the  east.  There,  in  the  very  eye  of  the 
dawn,  was  a  trail  of  smoke,  like  a  plume 
against  the  flaming,  three-quarters  circle  of  the 
rising  sun! 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON 

CND'S  face,  on  which  the  bruises  were  fast 
fading,  changed  purple-black  with  rage. 
He  whirled  upon  Sandy,  gaping  near,  and  or- 
dered him  to  fetch  his  binoculars.  Through 
them  he  stared  long  at  the  smoke.  Then  he 
turned  to  the  girl  and  Rainey. 

"Come  down  inter  the  cabin,"  he  said. 
"We'll  need  all  our  wits." 

"That's  a  gunboat  patrol,"  he  said.  "Japa- 
nese, for  a  million !  None  other  this  far  west. 
An'  it's  damned  funny  it  should  come  up  right 
at  this  minnit.  We've  made  the  trip  on  sched- 
ule time,  an'  here  they  show.  But  we'll  let  that 
slide.  We've  got  to  think  fast.  They'll  board 
us.  They'll  overhaul  us  lookin'  for  seal  pelts. 
At  least,  I  hope  so. 

"We've  got  none.  Our  hunters  an'  our 
277 


278          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

rifles  an'  shotguns'll  prove  our  claim  to  be 
pelagic  sealers.  We  got  to  trust  they  believe 
us.  If  there  was  a  hide  aboard  or  a  club,  or  a 
sign  of  a  dead  seal  on  the  beaches  they'd  nail 
us.  They  may,  ennyway,  jest  on  suspicion. 

"They  run  things  out  this  way  with  a  high 
hand.  If  they  ever  clap  us  in  prison  it'll  be 
where  we  can't  let  a  peep  out  of  us.  A  lot 
they  worry  about  our  consuls.  They's  too 
many  good  sealers  dropped  out  of  sight  in  one 
of  their  stinkin'  jails  to  starve  on  millet  an' 
dried,  moldy  fish.  I  know  what  I'm  talkin' 
about. 

"It's  lucky  we  didn't  start  mussin'  up  that 
beach.  But  they'll  go  over  everything.  I  know 
'em.  They  claim  to  own  the  seas  hereabouts, 
an'  they're  cockier  than  ever,  since  the  war. 
Rainey  you  got  to  git  busy  on  the  log.  If  yore 
father  didn't  keep  it  up,  Miss  Peggy,  so  much 
the  better.  If  he  has,  you  got  to  fake  it  some- 
ways,  Rainey. 

"I'm  Simms,  get  me,  until  we're  clear  of 
'em.  An'  you,  Rainey,  are  Doc  Carlsen. 


Nothin'  must  show  in  the  log  about  enny 
deaths." 

"But  why?"  asked  the  girl.  "Why  do  we 
have  to  masquerade?  If  we  haven't  touched 
the  seals  ?" 

Lund  barked  at  her: 

"I  gave  you  credit  for  sharper  wits,"  he 
said.  "We've  got  to  have  everything  so  reg'lar 
they  can't  find  an  excuse  for  haulin'  us  in  an' 
settin'  fire  to  the  schooner.  They'd  do  it  in  a 
jiffy.  We  got  to  show  'em  our  clearance  pa- 
pers, an'  we've  got  to  tally  up  all  down  the 
line.  Rainey  ain't  on  the  ship's  books — Carlsen 
is.  Lund  ain't,  but  Simms  is.  I'm  Simms.  An' 
you" — he  stopped  to  grin  at  her — "you're  my 
daughter.  I'll  dissolve  the  relationship  after  a 
while,  I'll  promise  you  that.  An'  I'll  drill  the 
men.  They  know  what's  ahead  of  'em  if  the 
Japs  git  suspicious. 

"That  ain't  the  worst  of  it!  They  may 
know  wliat  we're  after.  If  they  do,  we're 
goners.  Ever  occur  to  you,  Rainey,  that  Ta- 
mada,  who  is  a  deep  one,  may  have  tipped  off 


280          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

the  whole  thing  to  his  consul  while  the 
schooner  was  at  San  Francisco  ?  He  was  along 
the  last  trip.  He'd  know  the  approximate 
position.  Might  have  got  the  right  figgers  out 
o'  the  log,  him  havin'  the  run  of  the  cabin.  A 
cable  would  do  the  rest  He'd  git  his  whack 
out  of  it,  with  the  order  of  the  Golden  Chrys- 
anthemum or  some  jig-arig  to  boot,  an'  git 
even  with  the  way  he  feels  to'ard  our  outfit 
for'ard,  that  ain't  bin  none  too  sweet  to  him." 

The  suggestion  held  a  foundation  of  con- 
viction for  Rainey.  He  had  thought  of  the 
consul.  He  had  always  sensed  depths  in  Ta- 
mada's  reserve,  he  remembered  bits  of  his  talk, 
the  "certain  circumstances"  that  he  had  men- 
tioned. It  looked  plausible.  Lund  rose. 

"I'll  fix  Tamada,"  he  said.  But  the  girl 
stopped  him. 

"You  don't  know  that's  true.  Tamada  has 
been  wonderful — to  me.  What  do  you  intend 
to  do  with  him?" 

"I'll  make  up  my  mind  between  here  and  the 
galley,"  said  Lund  grimly.  "This  is  my  third 


THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON       281 

time  of  tackling  this  island,  an'  no  Jap  is  goin' 
to  stand  between  me  an'  the  gold,  this  trip. 
Why,  even  if  he  ain't  blown  on  us,  he'll  give 
the  whole  thing  away.  If  he  didn't  want  to 
they'd  make  him  come  through  if  they  laid 
their  eyes  on  him.  They've  got  more  tricks 
than  a  Chinese  mandarin  to  make  a  man  talk. 
Stands  to  reason  he'll  tell  'em.  If  he  can  talk 
when  they  git  here,"  he  added  ominously, 
standing  half-way  between  the  table  and  the 
door  to  the  corridor,  his  hand  opening  and 
closing  suggestively.  "The  crew'd  settle  his 
hash  if  I  didn't.  They  ain't  fools.  They  know 
what's  ahead  of  'em  in  Japan.  You,  Rainey, 
git  busy  with  that  log.  That  gunboat'll  have  a 
boat  alongside  this  floe  inside  of  ninety  min- 
nits." 

But  Peggy  Simms  was  between  him  and  the 
door. 

"You  shan't  do  it,"  she  said,  her  eyes  hard 
as  flints,  if  Lund's  were  like  steel.  "You  don't 
know  what  he  was  to  me  when — when  dad  was 
buried.  Call  him  in  and  let  him  talk  for  him- 


282          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

self  or — or  /'//  tell  the  Japanese  myself  what 
we  have  come  for!" 

Lund  stood  staring  at  her,  his  face  hard, 
his  beard  thrust  out  like  a  bush  with  the  jut 
of  his  jaw.  Still  she  faced  him,  resolute, 
barely  up  to  his  shoulder,  slim,  defiant.  Gradu- 
ally his  features  crinkled  into  a  grin. 

"I  believe  you  would,"  he  said  at  last.  "An' 
I'd  hate  to  fix  you  the  way  I  would  Tamada. 
But,  mind  you,  if  I  don't  git  a  definite  promise 
out  of  him  that  rings  true,  I'll  have  to  stow  him 
somewheres,  where  they  won't  find  him.  An' 
that  won't  be  on  board  ship." 

The  girl's  face  softened. 

"You  said  you  played  fair,"  she  said  with 
a  sigh  of  relief.  She  stepped  to  the  door, 
opened  it,  and  called  for  Tamada.  The  Japa- 
nese appeared  almost  instantly.  Lund  closed 
the  door  behind  him  and  locked  it. 

"You  know  there's  a  patrol  comin'  up,  Ta- 
mada ?"  he  asked.  "A  Jap  patrol  ?" 

"Yes." 


THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON        283 

"What  do  you  intend  tellin'  'em  if  they  come 
on  board?" 

"Nothing,  if  I  can  help  it.  I  think  I  can.  I 
am  not  friendly  with  Japanese  government.  It 
would  be  bad  for  me  if  they  find  me.  One  time 
I  belong  Progressive  Party  in  Japan.  I  make 
much  talk.  Too  much.  The  government  say 
I  am  too  progressive." 

Rainey  imagined  he  caught  a  glint  of  humor 
in  Tamada's  eyes  as  he  made  his  clipped  syl- 
lables. 

"So,  I  leave  my  country.  Suppose  I  go  on 
steamer  I  think  that  government  they  stop  me. 
I  think  even  in  California  they  may  make 
trouble,  if  they  find  me.  So  I  go  in  sampan. 
Sometimes  Japanese  cross  to  California  in 
sampan." 

"That's  right,"  said  Rainey.  He  had  han- 
dled more  than  one  story  of  Japanese  crews 
landing  on  some  desolate  portion  of  the  coast 
to  avoid  immigration  laws  and  steamer  fares. 
Generally  they  were  rounded  up  after  their 


284          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

perilous,  daring  crossing  of  the  Pacific.  Ta- 
rnada's  story  held  the  elements  of  truth.  Even 
Lund  nodded  in  reserved  affirmation. 

"Also  I  ship  on  Karluk  as  cook  because  of 
perhaps  trouble  if  some  one  know  me  in  San 
Francisco.  I  think  much  better  if  they  do  not 
see  me.  I  have  a  plan.  Also  I  want  my  share 
of  gold.  Suppose  that  gunboat  find  me,  find 
out  about  gold,  they  will  not  give  me  reward. 
You  do  not  know  Japanese.  They  will  put  me 
in  prison.  It  will  be  suggest  to  me,  because  I 
am  of  daimio  blood" — Tamada  drew  himself 
up  slightly  as  he  claimed  his  nobility — "that  I 
make  hari-kari.  That  I  do  not  wish.  I  am 
Progressive.  I  much  rather  cook  on  board 
Karluk  and  get  my  share  of  gold." 

Lund  surveyed  him  moodily,  half  convinced. 
The  girl  was  all  eager  approval. 

"What  is  your  plan,  Tamada?" 

"We're  losin'  time  on  that  log,"  cut  in  Lund. 
"Git  busy,  Rainey-  Look  among  Carlsen's 
stuff.  He  may  have  kept  one.  Dope  up  one 
of  'em,  an'  burn  the  other.  Now  then,  Ta- 


THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON        285 

mada,  dope  out  yore  scheme;  it's  got  to  be  a 
good  one." 

Both  Lund  and  the  girl  were  laughing  when 
Rainey  came  out  into  the  main  cabin  again 
with  the  records.  Tamada  had  disappeared. 

"He's  some  fox,"  said  Lund.  "Miss  Peggy, 
you  better  superintend  the  theatricals.  It's  got 
to  be  done  right.  Rainey,  not  to  interrupt  you, 
what  do  you  know  about  enteric  fever?" 

"Nothing." 

"Well,  it's  the  same  as  typhoid.  There'll  be 
a  surgeon  aboard  that  gunboat.  You  got  to 
bluff  him.  Say  little  an'  look  wise  as  an'  owl. 
Don't  let  him  mix  in  with  yore  patient." 

"My  patient?" 

"Tamada!  He's  got  enteric  fever.  If 
there's  time  he'll  give  you  all  the  dope." 

"But  I  don't  see  how  that — " 

"You  will  see  when  you  see  Tamada,"  Lund 
grinned.  "How  about  them  logs?  Can  you 
fix  'em?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Then  hop  to  it.     I'm  goin'  to  wise  up  the 


286          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

men  and  arrange  a  reception  committee.  Don't 
forgit  yore  name's  Carlsen,  an'  mine's  Simms." 

Rainey  wrote  rapidly  in  his  log,  erasing, 
eliminating  pages  without  trace,  imitating  the 
skipper's  phrasing.  Fortunately  Simms  had 
made  scant  entries  at  first  and,  later  on,  as  the 
drug  held  him,  none  at  all.  Carlsen  had  kept 
no  record  that  he  could  find.  The  girl  had 
gone  forward  to  aid  with  Tamada's  plan 
which  Lund  had  evidently  accepted. 

Before  he  had  quite  finished  he  heard  the 
tramp  of  men  on  deck  and  the  blast  of  a  steam 
whistle.  He  ended  his  task  and  went  up  to  see 
the  gunboat,  gray  and  menacing,  its  brasses 
glistening,  men  on  her  decks  at  their  tasks, 
oblivious  of  the  schooner,  and  officers  on  her 
bridge  watching  the  progress  of  a  launch  to- 
ward the  floe. 

It  made  landing  smartly,  and  a  lieutenant, 
diminutive  but  highly  effective  in  appearance, 
led  six  men  toward  the  Karluk.  He  wore  a 
sword  and  revolver;  the  men  carried  carbines. 
Their  disciplined  rank  and  smartness,  the  wait- 


THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON       287 

ing  launch,  the  gunboat  in  the  offing,  were  omi- 
nous with  the  suggestion  of  power,  the  will  to 
administer  it.  The  officer  in  command  carried 
his  chin  at  an  arrogant  tilt.  Lund  had  rigged 
a  gangway  and  stood  at  the  head  of  it,  saluting 
the  lieutenant  as  the  latter  snappily  answered 
the  greeting. 

Rainey  found  the  girl  and  put  a  hurried 
question. 

"What  about  Tamada?  Where  is  he? 
What's  the  plan?" 

She  turned  to  him  with  eyes  that  danced 
with  excitement. 

"He's  in  the  galley,  Doctor  Carlsen.  But  he 
isn't  Tamada  any  more.  He's  Jim  Cuffee, 
nigger  cook,  sick  with  enteric  fever,  not  to  be 
disturbed." 

Rainey  stared.  It  was  a  clever  device,  if 
Tamada  could  carry  it  out,  and  he  bear  his  own 
part  in  the  masquerade.  The  willingness  of 
Tamada  to  risk  the  disguise  was  assurance  of 
his  fidelity. 

"Lund  should  have  told  me,"  he  said.    "I've 


288-        A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

got  to  change  his  name  on  the  papers.  It  won't 
take  a  minute  though ;  he  doesn't  appear  in  the 
log." 

The  Japanese  officer  wasted  no  time  on  deck. 
For  precaution,  Rainey  made  his  alteration  in 
the  skipper's  cabin,  leaving  the  log  there  on 
the  built-in  desk. 

"This  is  Lieutenant  Ito,  Doctor  Carlsen," 
said  Lund.  "You  want  to  see  our  papers, 
Lieutenant  ?" 

"My  orders  are  to  examine  the  schooner," 
said  Ito,  in  English,  even  more  perfect  than 
Tamada's.  His  face  was  officially  severe, 
though  his  slant  eyes  shifted  constantly  toward 
the  girl.  Evidently  she  was  an  unexpected 
feature  of  the  visit. 

"I'll  get  the  papers  first,"  said  Lund.  "Doc- 
tor, you  an'  Peggy  entertain  the  lieutenant." 
Rainey  set  out  some  whisky,  which  the  Japa- 
nese refused,  some  cigars  that  he  passed  over 
with  a  motion  of  his  hand.  He  sat  down  stiffly 
and  ran  through  the  papers. 

"We're    pelagic,    you   know,"    said    Lund. 


THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON        289 

"We  ain't  trespassin'  on  purpose.  Didn't  even 
know  you  owned  the  island." 

"It  is  on  our  charts,"  said  Ito  crisply,  as  if 
that  settled  the  right  of  dominion.  "How  did 
you  come  here  at  all?" 

"We  was  brought,"  said  Lund.  "Got  froze 
in  north  o'  Wrangell.  Gale  set  us  west  as  we 
come  out  o'  the  Strait.  We're  bound  for  Cor- 
win.  Nothin'  contraband.  All  reg'lar.  Six 
hunters,  two  damaged  in  the  gale,  though  the 
doc's  fixed  'em  up.  Twelve  seamen,  one  boy, 
an'  a  nigger  cook  who's  pizened  himself  with 
his  own  cookin'.  Doc's  bringin'  him  round, 
too,  though  he  don't  deserve  it.  Want  to  make 
yore  inspection?  We're  in  no  hurry  to  git 
away  until  the  ice  melts.  Take  yore  time." 

The  little,  dapper  officer  with  his  keen,  high- 
cheeked  face,  and  his  shoe-brush  hair,  got  up 
and  bowed,  with  a  side  glance  at  Peggy  Simms. 

"It  is  not  usual  for  young. ladies  to  be  so  far 
north."  His  endeavor  at  gallantry  was  obvious. 

"I  am  with  my  father,"  said  the  girl,  look- 
ing at  Rainey,  enjoying  the  situation. 


290  '        A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"Where  I  go  she  goes,"  said  Lund.  And 
looked  in  turn  at  her  with  relish  in  his  double 
suggestion.  He,  too,  was  playing  the  game, 
gambling,  believing  in  his  luck,  reckless,  now 
he  had  set  the  board. 

They  passed  through  the  corridor.  Lund 
opened  up  the  strong-room,  and  then  the  gal- 
ley. It  was  orderly,  and  there  was  a  moaning 
figure  in  Tamada's  bunk,  a  tossing  figure  with 
a  head  bound  in  a  red  bandanna  above  the 
black  face  and  neck  that  showed  above  the 
blankets.  The  eyes  were  closed.  The  black 
hands,  showing  lighter  palms,  plucked  at  the 
coverings. 

"Delirious,"  said  Lund.  "Serves  him  right. 
He's  a  rotten  cook." 

"Have  you  all  the  medicines  you  need?" 
asked  Ito.  "I  can  send  our  surgeon." 

"I  can  manage,"  returned  Rainey,  alias  Carl- 
sen.  "It's  enteric.  I've  reduced  the  fever." 

They  passed  on  through  the  hunters'  quar- 
ters. The  girl  fell  behind  with  Rainey. 

"A  good  make-up  and  a  good  actor,"  she 


THE  MIGHT  OF  NIPPON        291 

whispered.  "I  helped  him  to  be  sure  he  cov- 
ered everything  that  would  show.  It  was  my 
idea  about  the  bandanna.  Just  what  a  sick 
negro  might  wear,  and  it  hid  his  straight  hair." 

The  lieutenant  appeared  fairly  satisfied,  but 
requested  that  Lund  go  on  board  his  ship.  He 
stayed  there  until  sundown,  returning  in  hilari- 
ous mood. 

"We've  slipped  it  over  on  'em  this  time,"  he 
said.  "I  left  'em  aswim  with  sake,  an'  bubblin' 
over  with  polite  regrets.  But  they'll  be  back 
in  three  weeks,  they  said,  if  the  ice  is  open. 
An',  if  the  luck  holds,  we'll  be  out  of  it.  I 
don't  want  them  searchin'  the  ship  ag'in."  He 
slapped  Tamada  on  the  back  as  he  came  to 
serve  supper  after  Sandy  had  laid  the  table. 

"A  reg'lar  vodeville  skit,"  he  exclaimed. 
"You're  some  actor,  Tamada !  But  why  didn't 
you  say  the  island  was  down  on  their  charts? 
They've  even  got  a  name  for  it.  Hiyama." 

"It  means  hot  mountain,"  said  Tamada. 
"The  government  names  many  islands." 

"You  can  bet  yore  life  they  do,"  said  Lund. 


292          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"They're  smart,  but  they  overlooked  that  beach 
an'  they've  given  us  three  weeks  to  cash  in." 

Lund  himself  had  imbibed  enough  of  the 
sake  to  make  him  loose  of  tongue,  added  to  his 
elation  at  the  success  he  had  achieved.  The 
gunboat  was  gone  on  its  patrol,  and  he  had  a 
free  hand.  He  half  filled  a  glass  with  whisky. 
"Here's  to  luck,"  he  cried.  And  spilled  a  part 
of  the  liquor  on  the  floor  before  he  set  the  glass 
to  his  lips. 

"Here's  to  you,  Doc,"  he  added.  "An'  to 
Peggy!"  He  rolled  eyes  that  were  a  trifle 
bloodshot  at  the  girl. 

"Our  relations  have  gone  back  as  usual,  Mr. 
Lund,"  she  said  quietly.  Lund  glared  at  her 
half  truculently. 

"I'm  agreeable,"  he  said.  "As  a  daughter, 
I  disown  you  from  now  on,  Miss  Peggy. 
Here's  to  ye,  jest  the  same !" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MY  MATE 

FROM  the  day  following  the  arrival  and 
departure  of  the  Japanese  gunboat,  they 
attacked  the  little  U-shaped  beach  that  lay  be- 
tween two  buttresses  of  the  volcano  and  sloped 
sharply  down  to  the  sea.  Twenty-one  men,  a 
lad  and  a  woman,  they  went  at  the  despoiling 
of  it  with  a  sort  of  obsession,  led,  rather  than 
driven,  by  Lund,  who  worked  among  the  rest 
of  them  like  a  Hercules. 

From  the  beginning  the  tongue  of  shingle 
promised  to  be  almost  incredibly  rich.  Be- 
tween these  two  spurs  of  mountain  the  tide  had 
washed  and  flung  the  rich,  free-flaking  gold  of 
a  submarine  vein,  piling  it  up  for  unguessable 
years.  Ebb  tides  had  worked  it  in  among  the 
gravel,  floods  had  beaten  it  down;  the  deeper 
they  went  to  bedrock,  the  richer  the  pan. 

The  men's  fancy  estimate  of  a  million  dol- 
293 


294          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

lars  began  speedily  to  seem  small  as  the  work 
progressed,  systematically  stripping  the  rocky 
floor  of  all  its  shingle,  foot  by  foot,  and  cubic 
yard  by  cubic  yard,  cradling  it  in  crude  rock- 
ers, fluming  it,  vaporizing  the  amalgam  of  gold 
and  mercury,  and  adding  pound  after  pound  of 
virgin  gold  to  the  sacks  in  the  schooner's 
strong-room. 

They  worked  at  first  in  alternating  shifts 
of  four  hours,  by  day  and  night,  under  the  sun, 
the  moon,  the  stars  and  the  flaming  aurora. 
The  crust  was  drilled  here  and  there  where  it 
had  frozen  into  conglomerate,  and  exploded 
by  dynamite,  carefully  placed  so  as  not  to  dis- 
lodge the  masses  of  ice  that  overhung  the 
schooner.  Fires  to  thaw  out  the  ground  were 
unavailable  for  sheer  lack  of  fuel;  there  was 
no  driftwood  between  these  forestless  shores. 
What  fuel  could  be  spared  was  conserved  for 
use  under  the  boilers  that  melted  ice  to  provide 
water  for  the  cradles  and  flumes,  and  help  to 
cook  the  meals  that  Tamada  prepared  out-of- 
doors  for  the  workers. 


MY  MATE  295 

Buckets  of  coffee,  stews,  and  thick  soups 
of  peas  and  lentils,  masses  of  beans  with  plenty 
of  fat  pork,  these  were  what  they  craved  after 
hours  of  tremendous  endeavor.  Despite  the 
cold,  they  sweated  profusely  at  their  tasks, 
stripping  off  over-garments  as  they  picked  and 
shoveled  or  crowbarred  out  the  rich  gravel. 

Peggy  Simms  worked  with  the  rest,  assist- 
ing Tamada,  helping  to  serve  with  Sandy. 
Deming,  and  Beale,  the  man  with  the  damaged 
ribs,  were  given  odd  jobs  that  they  could  han- 
dle :  feeding  the  fires,  washing  up,  or  assisting 
at  the  little  forge  where  the  drills  \vere  sharp- 
ened. 

Through  all  of  it  Lund  was  supreme  as 
working  superintendent.  There  was  no  job 
that  he  could  not,  did  not,  handle  better  than 
any  two  of  them,  and,  though  Rainey  could  see 
a  shrinkage,  or  a  compression,  of  his  bulk  as 
day  by  day  he  called  upon  it  for  heroic  service, 
he  never  seemed  to  tire. 

"Got  to  keep  'em  at  it,"  he  would  say  in  the 
cabin.  "No  time  to  lose,  an'  the  odds  all 


296.         A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

against  us,  in  a  way.  Barring  Luck.  That's 
what  we  got  to  count  on,  but  we  don't  want 
them  thinkin'  that.  If  the  weather  don't  break 
— an'  break  jest  right — as  soon  as  we've 
cleaned  up,  we're  stung.  Though  I'll  blast  a 
way  out  of  this  shore  ice,  if  it  comes  to  the 
worst.  I  saved  out  some  dynamite  on  pur- 
pose." 

"We  ought  to  have  brought  a  steam-shovel 
along,"  said  Rainey.  He  was  hard  as  iron, 
but  he  had  served  a  tough  apprenticeship  to 
labor,  and  his  hands  and  nails,  he  fancied, 
would  never  get  into  shape  again. 

"Now  you're  talkin',"  agreed  Lund.  "We 
c'ud  have  handled  it  in  fine  shape  an'  left  the 
machine  behind  as  junk  or  a  souvenir  for  our 
Jap  friends.  We've  got  to  cut  out  this  four- 
hour  shift.  Too  much  time  wasted  changin'. 
Too  many  meals.  We'll  make  it  one  long, 
steady  shift  of  all  hands  long  as  we  can  stand 
up  to  it,  an'  all  git  reg'lar  sleep.  I'm  needin' 
some  myself." 

Rainey  knew  that  neither  he  nor  Hansen  got 


MY  MATE  297 

within  two-thirds  as  much  out  of  their  shifts 
as  when  Lund  was  in  command,  though  he  had 
given  them  the  pick  of  the  men.  It  was  not 
that  the  men  malingered,  they  simply,  neither 
of  them,  had  the  knack  of  keeping  the  work 
going  at  top  speed  and  top  effectiveness. 

But,  with  Lund  handling  all  of  them  as  a 
unit,  it  was  not  long  before  the  shovels  began 
to  scrape  on  the  bare  rock  that  underlay  the 
gravel  at  tide  edge,  and  work  swiftly  back  to 
the  end  of  the  U.  The  outdoors  kitchen  had 
been  established  on  top  of  the  promontory  be- 
tween the  schooner  and  the  beach,  a  primitive 
arrangement  of  big  pots  slung  from  tripods 
over  fires  kindled  on  a  flat  area  that  was  partly 
sheltered  from  the  sea  and  the  prevailing  winds 
by  outcrops  of  weathered  lava. 

At  dawn  the  men  trooped  from  the  schooner 
to  be  fed  and  warmed,  and  then  they  flung 
themselves  at  their  task.  The  more  they  got 
out  the  more  there  was  in  it  for  them.  But 
Lund  was  their  overlord,  their  better,  and  they 
knew  it.  Only  Deming  worked  with  one  hand 


298          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

the  handle  of  the  forge  bellows,  or  fed  the 
fires,  and  sneered. 

Lund  stood  a  full  head  above  the  tallest  of 
them,  which  was  Rainey,  and  he  was  always 
in  the  thick  of  the  work,  directing,  demanding 
the  utmost,  and  setting  example  to  back  com- 
mand. His  eyes  had  bothered  him,  and  he  had 
made  a  pair  of  Arctic  snow-glasses,  mere  cir- 
cles of  wood  with  slits  in  them.  But  under 
these  the  sweat  gathered,  and  he  discarded 
them,  resorting  to  the  primitive  device  of 
smearing  soot  all  about  his  eyes.  This,  he  said, 
gave  him  relief,  but  it  made  him  a  weird  sort 
of  Caliban  in  his  labors. 

On  the  fifteenth  day,  with  the  work  better 
than  half  done,  with  more  than  a  ton  of  actual 
gold  in  colors,  that  ranged  from  flour  dust  to 
nuggets,  in  the  strong-room,  the  weather  be- 
gan to  change.  It  misted  continually,  and 
Lund,  rejoicing,  prophesied  the  breaking  up 
of  the  cold  snap. 

By  the  eighteenth  day  a  regular  Chinook 
was  blowing,  melting  the  sharper  outlines  of 


MY  MATE  299 

the  icy  crags  and  pinnacles,  and  providing 
streams  of  moisture  that,  in  the  nights  now 
gradually  growing  longer,  glazed  every  yard 
of  rock  with  peril. 

The  men  worked  in  a  muck  with  their  rub- 
ber sea-boots  worn  out  by  constant  chafing, 
sweaters  torn,  the  blades  of  their  shovels  re- 
duced by  the  work  demanded  of  them,  the 
drills,  shortened  by  steady  sharpening,  gone 
like  the  spare  flesh  of  the  laborers,  who,  at  last, 
began  to  show  signs  of  quicker  and  quicker  ex- 
haustion with  occasional  mutterings  of  discon- 
tent, while  Lund,  intent  only  upon  cleaning  off 
the  rock  as  a  dentist  cleans  a  crumbling  tooth, 
coaxed  and  cursed,  blamed  and  praised  and 
bullied,  and  did  the  actual  work  of  three  of 
them. 

Dead  with  fatigue,  filled  with  food,  drowsy 
from  the  liberal  grog  allowance  at  the  end  of 
the  day,  the  men  slept  in  a  torpor  every  night 
and  showed  less  and  less  inclination  to  respond, 
though  the  end  of  their  labors  was  almost  in 
sight. 


300          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

"What's  the  use,  we  got  enough,"  was  the 
comment  beginning  to  be  heard  more  and  more 
frequently.  "Lund,  he's  got  more'n  he  can 
spend  in  a  lifetime!" 

Rainey  could  not  trace  these  mutterings  to 
Deming's  instigation,  but  he  suspected  the 
hunter.  There  was  no  poker;  all  hands  were 
too  tired  for  play. 

The  ice  in  which  the  schooner  was  packed 
began  to  show  signs  of  disintegration.  The 
surface  rotted  by  day  and  froze  again  by  night 
and  this  destroyed  its  compactness.  If  the 
sun's  arc  above  the  horizon  had  been  longer, 
its  rays  more  vertical,  the  ice  must  infallibly 
have  melted  and  freed  the  Karluk,  for  it  was 
salt-water  ice,  and  there  were  times  when  the 
thermometer  stayed  above  its  freezing  point 
for  two  or  three  hours  around  noon. 

Lund  gave  the  holding  floe  scant  attention. 
So  long  as  the  present  weather  kept  up  he  de- 
clared that  he  could  dynamite  his  way  out  in- 
side of  four  hours. 

The  effect  of  all  this  on  Rainey  was  a  bit 


MY  MATE  301 

bewildering.  He  was  judging  life  by  new 
standards  far  apart  from  his  own  modes  and, 
though  he,  too,  worked  with  a  will,  and  re- 
joiced in  the  freer  effort  of  his  muscles,  the 
result  comparing  favorably  with  the  best  of 
the  others — save  Lund — he  could  not  assimi- 
late the  general  conditions. 

They  were  too  purely  physical,  he  told  him- 
self; he  missed  his  old  habits,  the  reading  and 
discussion  of  books,  new  and  old,  the  good 
restaurants  of  San  Francisco,  and  the  chat  he 
had  been  used  to  hold  over  their  tables,  com- 
panionable, witty,  the  exchange  and  stimula- 
tion of  ideas. 

He  missed  the  theaters,  the  concerts,  the 
passing  show  of  well-dressed  women,  a  hodge- 
podge of  flesh-pots  and  mental  uplift.  He  got 
to  dreaming  of  these  things  nights. 

Daytimes,  he  saw  plainly  that,  in  this  en- 
vironment at  least,  Lund  was  big,  and  the  rest 
of  them  comparatively  small.  He  believed 
that  Lund  could  actually  form  a  little  kingdom 
of  his  own,  as  he  had  suggested,  and  make  a 


302          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

success  of  it.  But  it  would  not  be  a  kingdom 
that  fostered  the  arts.  It  would  cultivate  the 
sciences,  or  at  least  encourage  them  and  adopt 
results  as  applied  to  land  development,  and,  if 
necessary,  the  defense  of  the  kingdom. 

Lund  would  be  a  figure  in  war  and  peace, 
peace  of  the  practical  sort,  the  kind  of  peace 
that  went  with  plenty.  He  was  no  dreamer, 
but  a  utilitarian.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the  world 
most  needed  such  men  just  now. 

As  for  Peggy  Simms,  she  did  not  lose  the 
polish  of  her  culture,  she  was  always  feminine, 
even  dainty  at  times,  despite  her  work,  that 
could  not  help  but  be  coarse  to  a  certain  extent. 
She  was  full  of  vigor,  she  showed  unexpected 
strength,  she  was  a  source  of  encouragement  to 
the  men  as  she  waited  on  them.  And  also  a 
source  of  undisguised  admiration,  all  of  which 
she  shed  as  a  duck  sheds  water.  She  was  filled 
with  abounding  health,  she  moved  with  a  free 
grace  that  held  the  eye  and  lingered  in  the 
mind.  She  was  eminently  a  woman,  and  she 
also  was  big. 


MY  MATE  303 

Rainey  gained  an  increasing  respect  in  her 
prowess,  and  a  swift  conversion  to  the  equality 
of  the  sexes.  There  were  times  when  he 
doubted  his  own  equality.  Had  she  met  him  on 
his  own  ground,  in  his  own  realm  of  what 
he  considered  vaguely  as  culture,  he  would 
have  known  a  mastery  that  he  now  lacked.  As 
it  was,  she  averaged  higher,  and  she  had  an 
attraction  of  sex  that  was  compelling. 

Here  was  a  girl  who  would  demand  certain 
standards  in  the  man  with  whom  she  would 
mate,  not  merely  accompany  through  life. 
There  were  times  when  Rainey  felt  irresistibly 
the  charm  of  her  as  a  woman,  longed  for  her 
in  the  powerful  sex  reactions  that  inevitably 
follow  hard  labor.  There  were  times  when  he 
felt  that  she  did  not  consider  that  he  measured 
up  to  her  gages,  and  he  would  strive  to  change 
the  atmosphere,  to  dominate  the  situation  in 
which  Lund  was  the  greater  figure  of  the 
two  men. 

The  rivalry  that  Lund  had  suggested  be- 
tween them  as  regards  the  girl,  Rainey  felt  al- 


304          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

most  thrust  upon  him.  There  were  moods 
which  Peggy  Simms  turned  to  him  for  sharing, 
but  there  was  scant  time  in  the  waking  hours 
for  love-making,  or  even  its  consideration. 

Lund  was  centered  on  one  achievement,  the 
gold  harvest.  He  ordered  the  girl  with  the 
rest;  there  were  even  times  when  he  repri- 
manded her,  while  Rainey  burned  with  the  re- 
sentment she  apparently  did  not  share. 

A  little  before  dawn  on  the  eighteenth  day 
of  the  work  upontl^e  beach,  Lund  was  out  upon 
the  floe  examining  the  condition  of  the  ice. 
He  had  declared  that  two  days  more  of  hard 
endeavor  would  complete  their  labors.  What 
dirt  remained  at  the  end  of  that  time  they 
would  transship.  Rainey  had  joined  the  girl 
and  Tamada  at  the  cook  fires. 

The  sky  was  bright  with  the  aurora  borealis 
that  would  pale  before  the  sun.  The  men  were 
not  yet  out  of  their  bunks.  They  were  bone 
and  muscle  tired,  and  Rainey  doubted  whether 
Lund,  gaunt  and  lean  himself,  could  get  two 
days  of  top  work  out  of  them.  Near  the  fires 


MY  MATE  305 

for  the  cooking,  the  melting-  of  water  and  the 
forge,  that  were  kept  glowing  all  night,  the 
tools  were  stacked,  to  help  preserve  their 
temper. 

The  aurora  quivered  in  varying  incandes- 
cence as  Rainey  watched  Lund  prodding  at  the 
floe  ice  with  a  steel  bar.  The  girl  was  busy  with 
the  coffee,  and  Tamada  was  compounding  two 
pots  of  stew  and  bubbling  peas  pudding  for 
the  breakfast,  food  for  heat  and  muscle 
making. 

Sandy  appeared  on  deck  and  came  swiftly 
over  the  side  of  the  vessel  and  up  the  worn  trail 
to  the  fires.  He  showed  excitement,  Rainey 
fancied,  sure  of  it  as  the  lad  got  within  speak- 
ing distance. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Lund?"  he  panted. 

Rainey  pointed  to  Lund,  now  examining  a 
crack  that  had  opened  up  in  the  floe,  a  possible 
line  of  exit  for  the  Karluk,  later  on.  The  men 
were  beginning  to  show  on  the  schooner. 
They,  too,  he  noted  somewhat  idly,  acted  dif- 
ferently this  morning.  Usually  they  were 


306          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

sluggish  until  they  had  eaten,  sleepy  and  indif- 
ferent until  the  coffee  stimulated  them,  and 
Lund  took  up  this  stimulus  and  fanned  it  to  a 
flame  of  work.  This  morning  they  walked  dif- 
ferently, abnormally  active. 

"They're  drunk,  an'  they're  goin'  on  strike," 
said  Sandy.  "You  know  the  big  demijohn  in 
the  lazaretto  ?" 

Rainey  nodded.  It  was  a  two-handled  affair 
holding  five  gallons,  a  reserve  supply  of  strong 
rum  from  which  Lund  dispensed  the  grog  al- 
lowances and  stimulations  for  extra  work 
toward  the  end  of  the  shift,  the  night-caps  and 
occasional  rewards. 

"They've  swiped  it,"  he  said.  "Put  an 
empty  one  from  the  hold  in  its  place.  We  got 
plenty  without  usin'  that  one  for  a  while,  an'  I 
only  happened  to  notice  it  this  morning  by 
chance.  They've  bin  drinkin'  all  night,  I 
reckon.  They're  ugly,  Mr.  Rainey.  It's  the 
crew  this  time.  They  got  the  booze.  The 
hunters  are  sober.  Deming  ain't  in  on  this. 
They  did  it  on  their  own.  I  don't  know  how 


MY  MATE  307 

they  got  it.  I  didn't  get  it  for  'em,  sir.  They 
must  have  worked  plumb  through  the  hold  an' 
got  to  it  that  way." 

"All  right,  Sandy.  Thanks.  Mr.  Lund  can 
handle  them,  I  guess.  He's  coming  now." 

The  men  had  got  to  the  ice,  hidden  from 
Lund,  who  was  walking  to  the  Karluk  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  vessel.  The  seamen  were 
gesticulating  freely;  the  sound  of  their  voices 
came  up  to  him  where  he  stood,  tinged  with  a 
new  freedom  of  speech,  rough,  confident,  men- 
acing. As  they  climbed  the  trail  their  legs  be- 
trayed them  and  confirmed  the  boy's  story. 
Behind  them  came  the  four  hunters,  with  Han- 
sen,  walking  apart,  watching  the  sailors  with 
a  certain  gravity  that  communicated  itself  de- 
spite the  distance. 

Lund  showed  at  the  far  rail  of  the  schooner 
with  his  bar.  He  glanced  toward  the  men  go- 
ing to  work,  went  below,  and  came  up  with  a 
sweater.  He  had  left  the  bar  behind  him  in 
the  cabin,  where  it  was  used  for  a  stove  poker. 

The  men  filed  by  Rainey,  their  faces  flushed 


308          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

and  their  eyes  unusually  bright.  They  seemed 
to  share  a  prime  joke  that  wanted  to  bubble  up 
and  over,  yet  held  a  restraint  upon  themselves 
that  was  eased  by  digs  in  one  another's  ribs, 
in  laughs  when  one  stumbled  or  hiccoughed. 

But  Hansen  was  stolid  as  ever,  and  the 
hunters  had  evidently  not  shared  the  stolen 
liquor.  Only  Deming's  eyes  roved  over  the 
group  of  men  as  they  gathered  round  for  their 
cups  and  pannikins  of  food.  He  seemed  to  be 
calculating  what  advantage  he  could  gain  out 
of  this  unexpected  happening. 

Peggy  Simms,  under  cover  of  pouring  the 
coffee,  sweetened  heavily  with  condensed  milk, 
found  time  to  speak  to  Rainey. 

"They're  all  drunk,"  she  said. 

"Not  all  of  them.  Here  comes  Lund.  He'll 
handle  it." 

Lund  seemed  still  pondering  the  problem  of 
the  floe.  At  first  he  did  not  notice  the  condi- 
tion of  the  sailors.  Then  he  apparently  ignored 
it.  But,  after  they  had  eaten,  he  talked  to  all 
the  men. 


MY  MATE  309 

"Two  more  days  of  it,  lads,  and  we're 
through.  The  beach  is  nigh  cleared.  We  can 
git  out  of  the  floe  to  blue  water  easy  enough, 
an'  we'll  git  a  good  start  on  the  patrol-ship. 
We'll  go  back  with  full  pockets  an'  heavy  ones. 
The  shares'll  be  half  as  large  again  as  we've 
figgered.  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  they  averaged 
sixteen  or  seventeen  thousand  dollars  apiece." 

Rainey  had  picked  out  a  black-bearded  Finn 
as  the  leader  of  the  sailors  in  their  debauch. 
The  liquor  seemed  to  have  unchained  in  him 
a  spirit  of  revolt  that  bordered  on  insolence. 
He  stood  with  his  bowed  legs  apart,  mittened 
hands  on  hips,  staring  at  Lund  with  a  covert 
grin. 

Next  to  Lund  he  was  the  biggest  man 
aboard.  With  the  rum  giving  an  unusual  co- 
ordination to  his  usually  sluggish  nervous  sys- 
tem, he  promised  to  be  a  source  of  trouble. 

Rainey  was  surprised  to  see  him  shrug  his 
shoulders  and  lead  the  way  to  the  beach.  Per- 
haps breakfast  had  sobered  them,  though  the 
fumes  of  liquor  still  clung  cloudily  on  the  air. 


310          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Lund  went  down,  with  Rainey  beside  him, 
reporting  Sandy. 

"I'll  work  it  out  of  'em,"  said  Lund.  "That 
booze' 11  be  an  expensive  luxury  to  'em,  paid 
for  in  hard  labor." 

They  found  the  men  ranged  up  in  three 
groups.  Deming  and  Beale,  against  custom, 
had  gone  down  to  the  beach.  They  were  sup- 
posed to  help  clean  the  food  utensils,  and  aid 
Tamada  after  a  meal,  besides  replenishing  the 
fires. 

They  stood  a  little  away  from  the  hunters 
and  Hansen  and  the  sailors.  The  Finn,  talk- 
ing to  his  comrades  in  a  low  growl,  was  writh 
a  separate  group. 

There  was  an  air  of  defiance  manifest,  a 
feeling  of  suspense  in  the  tiny  valley,  backed 
by  the  frowning  cone,  ribbed  by  the  two  icy 
promontories.  Lund  surveyed  them  sharply. 

"What  in  hell's  the  matter  with  you?"  he 
barked.  "Hansen,  send  up  a  man  for  the 
drills  an'  shovels.  Yore  work's  laid  out;  hop 
to  it!" 


MY  MATE  311 

"We  ain't  goin'  to  work  no  more,"  said  the 
Finn  aggressively.  "Not  fo'  no  sich  wage  like 
you  give." 

"Oh,  you  ain't,  ain't  you?"  mocked  Lund. 
He  was  standing  with  Rainey  in  the  middle  of 
the  space  they  had  cleared  of  gravel,  the  sea- 
men lower  down  the  beach,  nearer  the  sea, 
their  ranks  compacted.  "Why,  you  booze- 
bitten,  lousy  hunky,  what  in  hell  do  you  want  ? 
You  never  saw  twenty  dollars  in  a  lump  you 
c'u'd  call  yore  own  for  more'n  ten  minnits. 
You  boardin'-house  loafer  an'  the  rest  of  you 
scum  o'  the  seven  seas,  git  yore  shovels  an' 
git  to  diggin',  or  I'll  put  you  ashore  in  San 
Francisco  flat  broke,  an'  glad  to  leave  the  ship, 
at  that.  Jump!" 

The  Finn  snarled,  and  the  rest  stood  firm. 
Not  one  of  them  knew  the  real  value  of  their 
promised  share.  Money  represented  only  coun- 
ters exchanged  for  lodging,  food  and  drink 
enough  to  make  them  sodden  before  they  had 
spent  even  their  usual  wages.  Then  they 
would  wake  to  find  the  rest  gone,  and  throw 


312          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

themselves  upon  the  selfish  bounty  of  a  board- 
ing-house keeper. 

But  they  had  seen  the  gold,  they  had  han- 
dled it,  and  they  were  inflamed  by  a  sense  of 
what  it  ought  to  do  for  them.  Perhaps  half  of 
them  could  not  add  a  simple  sum,  could  not 
grasp  figures  beyond  a  thousand,  at  most.  And 
the  sight  of  so  much  gold  had  made  it,  in  a 
manner,  cheap.  It  was  there,  a  heap  of  it,  and 
they  wanted  more  of  that  shining  heap  than 
had  been  promised  them. 

"You  talk  big,"  said  the  Finn.  "Look  my 
hands."  He  showed  palms  calloused,  split, 
swollen  lumps  of  chilblained  flesh  worn  down 
and  stiffened.  "I  bin  seaman,  not  goddam 
navvy." 

Lund  turned  to  the  hunters. 

"You  in  on  this?"  he  asked.  Deming  and 
Beale  moved  off.  Two  of  the  others  joined 
them.  "Neutral?"  sneered  Lund.  "I'll  re- 
member that."  Hansen  and  the  two  remaining 
came  over  beside  Lund  and  Rainey. 

"Five  of  us,"  said  Lund.  "Five  men  against 


MY  MATE  313 

twelve  fo'c'sle  rats.  I'll  give  you  two  minnits 
to  start  work." 

"You  talk  big  with  yore  gun  in  pocket,"  said 
the  Finn.  "Me  good  man  as  you  enny  day." 

Lund's  face  turned  dark  with  a  burst  of  rage 
that  exploded  in  voice  and  action. 

"You  think  I  need  my  gun,  do  ye,  you  pack 
of  rats?  Then  try  it  on  without  it." 

His  hand  slid  to  his  holster  inside  his  heavy 
coat.  His  arm  swung,  there  was  a  streak  of 
gleaming  metal  in  the  lifting  sun- rays,  flying 
over  the  heads  of  the  seamen.  It  plunked  in 
the  free  water  beyond  the  ice. 

"Come  on,"  roared  Lund,  "or  I'll  rush  you 
to  the  first  bath  you've  had  in  five  years."  The 
Finn  lowered  his  head,  and  charged;  the  rest 
followed  their  leader.  The  hot  food  had 
steadied  their  motive  control  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent, they  were  firmer  on  their  feet,  less  vague 
of  eye,  but  the  crude  alcohol  still  fumed  in 
their  brains.  Without  it  they  would  never 
have  answered  the  Finn's  call  to  rebellion. 

He  had  promised,  and  their  drunken  minds 


314          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

believed,  that  refusing  in  a  mass  to  work 
would  automatically  halt  things  until  they  got 
their  "rights."  They  had  not  expected  an  open 
fight.  The  spur  of  alcohol  had  thrust  them 
over  the  edge,  given  them  a  swifter  flow  of 
their  impoverished  blood,  a  temporary  confi- 
dence in  their  own  prowess,  a  mock  valor  that 
answered  Lund's  contemptuous  challenge. 

Lund,  thought  Rainey,  had  done  a  fool- 
hardy thing  in  tossing  away  his  gun.  It  was 
magnificent,  but  it  was  not  war.  Pure  bravado ! 
But  he  had  scant  time  for  thinking.  Lund 
tossed  him  a  scrap  of  advice.  "Keep  movin' ! 
Don't  let  'em  crowd  you !"  Then  the  fight  was 
joined. 

The  girl  leaned  out  from  the  promontory  to 
watch  the  tourney.  Tamada,  impassive  as 
ever,  tended  his  fires.  Sandy  crept  down  to 
the  beach,  drawn  despite  his  will,  and  shuffled 
in  and  out,  irresolute,  too  weak  to  attempt  to 
mix  in,  but  excited,  eager  to  help.  Deming, 
Beale,  and  the  two  neutral  hunters,  stood  to 


MY  MATE  315 

one  side,  waiting,  perhaps,  to  see  which  way 
the  fight  went,  reserves  for  the  apparent  victor. 

The  Finn,  best  and  biggest  of  the  sailors, 
rushed  for  Lund,  his  little  eyes  red  with  rage, 
crazy  with  the  desire  to  make  good  his  boast 
that  he  was  as  good  as  Lund.  In  his  barbaric 
way  he  was  somewhat  of  a  dancer,  and  his  legs 
were  as  lissome  as  his  arms.  He  leaped,  strik- 
ing with  fists  and  feet. 

Lund  met  him  with  a  fierce  upper-cut,  short- 
traveled,  sent  from  the  hip.  His  enormous 
hand,  bunched  to  a  knuckly  lump  of  stone, 
knocked  the  Finn  over,  lifting  him,  before  he 
fell  with  his  nose  driven  in,  its  bone  shattered, 
his  lips  broken  like  overripe  fruit,  and  his  dis- 
colored teeth  knocked  out. 

He  landed  on  his  back,  rolling  over  and 
over,  to  lie  still,  half  stunned,  while  two  more 
sprang  for  Lund. 

Lund  roared  with  surprise  and  pain  as  one 
caught  his  red  beard  and  swung  to  it,  smiting 
and  kicking.  He  wrapped  his  left  arm  about 


316          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

the  man,  crushing  him  close  up  to  him,  and, 
as  the  other  came,  diving  low,  butting  at  his 
solar  plexus,  the  giant  gripped  him  by  the  col- 
lar, using  his  own  impetus,  and  brought  the 
two  skulls  together  with  a  thud  that  left  them 
stunned. 

The  two  dropped  from  Lund's  relaxed  arms 
like  sacks,  and  he  stepped  over  them,  alert, 
poised  on  the  balls  of  his  feet,  letting  out  a 
shout  of  triumph,  while  he  looked  about  him 
for  his  next  adversary. 

The  bedrock  on  which  they  fought  was  slip- 
pery where  ice  had  formed  in  the  crevices. 
Two  seamen  tackled  Hansen.  He  stopped  the 
curses  of  one  with  a  straight  punch  to  his 
mouth,  but  the  man  clung  to  his  arm,  bearing 
it  down.  Hansen  swung  at  the  other,  and  the 
blow  went  over  the  shoulder  as  he  dodged, 
but  Hansen  got  him  in  chancery,  and  the  three, 
staggering,  swearing,  sliding,  went  down  at 
last  together,  with  Hansen  underneath,  twist- 
ing one's  neck  to  shut  off  his  wind  while  he 
warded  off  the  wild  blows  of  the  second. 


MY  MATE  317 

With  a  wild  heave  he  got  on  all- fours,  and  then 
Lund,  roaring  like  a  bull  as  he  came,  tore  off 
a  seaman  and  flung  him  headlong. 

"Pound  him,  Hansen!"  he  shouted,  his  eyes 
hard  with  purpose,  shining  like  ice  that  reflects 
the  sun,  his  nostrils  wide,  glorying  in  the  fight. 

The  Finn  had  got  himself  together  a  bit, 
wiping  the  gouts  of  blood  from  his  face  and 
spitting  out  the  snags  of  his  broken  teeth.  He 
drew  a  knife  from  inside  his  shirt,  a  long, 
curving  blade,  and  sidled,  like  a  crab,  toward 
Lund,  murder  in  his  piggy,  bloodshot  eyes, 
waiting  for  a  chance  to  slip  in  and  stab  Lund 
in  the  back,  calling  to  a  comrade  to  help  him. 

"Come  on,"  he  called,  "Olsen,  wit'  yore 
knife.  Gut  the  swine!" 

Another  blade  flashed  out,  and  the  pair  ad- 
vanced, crouching,  knees  and  bodies  bent. 
Lund  backed  warily  toward  the  opposite  cliff, 
looking  for  a  loose  rock  fragment.  He  had 
forbidden  knives  to  the  sailors  since  the 
mutiny,  and  had  forced  a  delivery,  but  these 
two  had  been  hidden.  A  knife  to  the  Finn  was 


318'         A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

a  natural  accessory.  Only  his  drunken  frenzy 
had  made  him  try  to  beat  Lund  at  his  own 
game. 

One  of  the  two  hunters,  lamed  with  a  kick 
on  the  knee,  howling  with  the  pain,  clinched 
savagely  and  bore  the  seaman  down,  battering 
his  head  against  a  knob  of  rock.  The  other 
friendly  hunter  had  bashed  and  buffeted  his 
opponent  to  submission.  But  Rainey  was  in 
hard  case. 

A  seaman,  half  Mexican,  flew  at  him  like  a 
wildcat.  Rainey  struck  out,  and  his  fists  hit 
at  the  top  of  the  breed's  head  without  stop- 
ping him.  Then  he  clinched. 

The  Mexican  was  slippery  as  an  eel.  He 
got  his  arms  free,  his  hands  shot  up,  and  his 
thumbs  sought  the  inner  corners  of  Rainey's 
eyes.  The  sudden,  burning  anguish  was  mad- 
dening and  he  drove  his  clasped  fists  upward, 
wedging  away  the  drilling  fingers. 

Two  hands  clawed  at  his  shoulders  from  be- 
hind. Some  one  sprang  fairly  on  his  back.  A 
knee  thrust  against  his  spine. 


MY  MATE  319 

The  agony  left  him  helpless,  the  vertebrae 
seemed  about  to  crack.  Strength  and  will  were 
shut  off,  and  the  world  went  black.  And  then 
one  of  the  hunters  catapulted  into  the  struggle, 
and  the  four  of  them  went  down  in  a  mad- 
dened frenzy  of  blows  and  stifled  shouts. 

The  sailors  fought  like  beasts,  striving  for 
blo\vs  barred  by  all  codes  of  decency  and  fair 
play,  intent  to  maim.  Lund  had  got  his  shoul- 
ders against  the  rocks  and  stood  with  open 
hands,  watching  the  two  with  their  knives,  who 
crept  in,  foot  by  foot,  to  make  a  finish. 

Peggy  Simms,  a  strand  of  her  pale  yellow 
hair  whipped  loose,  flung  it  out  of  her  eyes  as 
she  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  her  lips  apart, 
her  breasts  rising  stormily,  watching;  her  fea- 
tures changing  with  the  tide  of  battle  as  it 
surged  beneath  her,  punctuated  with  muffled 
shouts  and  wind-clipped  oaths.  She  saw  Lund 
at  bay,  and  snatched  out  her  pistol.  But  the 
distance  was  too  great.  She  dared  not  trust 
her  aim. 

Sandy,  dancing  in  and  out,  willing  but  help- 


320          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

less,  bound  by  fear  and  lack  of  muscle,  saw 
Deming,  followed  by  Beale,  stealing  up  the 
trail,  unnoticed  by  the  girl,  who  leaned  far  for- 
ward, watching  the  fight,  her  eyes  on  Lund  and 
the  two  creeping  closer  with  their  knives,  cau- 
tious but  determined.  Tamada  stood  farther 
back  and  could  not  see  them. 

The  lad's  wits,  sharpened  by  his  forecastle 
experience,  surmised  what  Deming  and  Beale 
were  after  as  they  gained  the  promontory  flat 
and  ran  toward  the  fires. 

"Hey !"  he  shrilled.  "Look  out ;  they're  after 
the  tools !" 

Dealing's  hand  was  stretched  toward  a 
shovel,  its  worn  steel  scoop  sharp  as  a  chisel. 
Beale  was  a  few  feet  behind  him.  They  were 
going  to  toss  the  shovels  and  drills  down  to 
the  seamen. 

Tamada  turned.  His  face  did  not  change, 
but  his  eyes  gleamed  as  he  thrust  a  dipper 
in  the  steaming  remnants  of  the  pea-soup  and 
flung  the  thick  blistering  mass  fair  in  Deming's 


MY  MATE  321 

face.  At  the  same  moment  the  girl's  pistol 
cracked  with  a  stab  of  red  flame.  Beale 
dropped,  shot  in  the  neck,  close  to  the  collar- 
bone, twisting  like  a  scotched  snake,  rolling 
down  the  trail  to  the  beach  again. 

Deming,  howling  like  a  scorched  devil, 
clawed  with  one  hand  at  the  sticky  mass  that 
masked  him  as  he  ran  blind,  wild  with  pain. 
He  tripped,  clutched,  and  lost  his  hold,  slid  on 
a  plane  of  icy  lava,  smooth  as  glass,  struck  a 
buttress  that  sent  him  off  at  a  tangent  down  the 
face  of  the  cliff,  bounding  from  impact  with 
an  outthrust  elbow  of  the  rock,  whirling  into 
space,  into  the  icy  turmoil  of  the  waves,  flood- 
ing into  the  inlet. 

Peggy  Simms  fled  down  the  trail  with  a 
steel  drill  in  either  hand,  straight  across  the 
beach  toward  Lund.  The  Finn  turned  on  her 
with  a  snarl  and  a  side-swipe  of  his  knife,  but 
she  leaped  aside,  dodged  the  other  slow-foot, 
and  thrust  a  drill  at  Lund,  who  grasped  it  with 
a  cry  of  exultation,  swinging  it  over  his  head 


322          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

as  if  it  had  been  a  bamboo.  Hansen  had 
shaken  off  his  men,  and  came  leaping  in  for  the 
second  drill. 

The  knife  fell  tinkling  on  the  fro/en  rock  as 
Lund  smashed  the  wrist  of  the  Finn.  The 
girl's  gun  made  the  second  would-be  stabber 
throw  up  his  hands  while  Hansen  snatched  his 
weapon,  flung  it  over  the  farther  cliff,  and 
knocked  the  seaman  to  the  ground  before  he 
joined  Lund,  charging  the  rest,  who  fled  before 
the  sight  of  them  and  the  threat  of  the  bars  of 
steel. 

Lund  laughed  loud,  and  stopped  striking, 
using  the  drill  as  a  goad,  driving  them  into  a 
huddled  horde,  like  leaderless  sheep,  knee-deep, 
thigh-deep,  into  the  water,  where  they  stopped 
and  begged  for  mercy  while  Hansen  turned  to 
put  a  finish  to  the  separate  struggles. 

It  ended  as  swiftly  as  it  had  begun.  One 
hunter  could  barely  stand  for  his  kicked  knee, 
Rainey's  back  was  strained  and  stiffening, 
Lund  had  lost  a  handful  of  his  beard,  and 
Hansen' s  cheek  was  laid  open. 


MY  MATE  323 

On  the  other  side  the  casualties  were  more 
severe.  Deming  was  drowned,  his  body  flung 
up  by  the  tide,  rolling  in  the  swash.  Beale 
was  coughing  blood,  though  not  dangerously 
wounded.  The  Finn  was  crying  over  his 
broken  wrist,  all  the  fight  out  of  him.  Ribs 
were  sore  where  not  splintered  from  the  drills, 
and  the  two  bumped  by  Lund  sat  up  with 
sorely  aching  heads.  The  courage  inspired  by 
the  liquor  was  all  gone;  oozed,  beaten  out  of 
them.  They  were  cowed,  demoralized,  whipped. 

Lund  took  swift  inventory,  lining  them  up 
as  they  came  timorously  out  of  the  water  or 
straggled  against  the  cliff  at  his  order.  Ta- 
mada  had  come  down  from  the  fires.  Peggy 
had  told  of  his  share,  and  Sandy's  timely 
shout.  Lund  nodded  at  him  in  a  friendly 
manner. 

"You're  a  white  man,  Tamada,"  he  said. 
"You,  too,  Sandy.  I'll  not  forget  it.  Rainey, 
round  up  these  derelicts  an'  help  Tamada  fix 
'em  up.  I'll  settle  with  'em  later.  Hansen,  put 
the  rest  of  'em  to  work,  an'  keep  'em  to  it! 


324          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

Do  you  hear  ?    They  got  to  do  the  work  of  the 
whole  bunch."  t 

They  went  willingly  enough,  limping,  nurs- 
ing their  bruises,  while  Hansen,  his  stolidity 
momentarily  vanished  in  the  rush  of  the  fight 
and  not  yet  regained,  exhibited  an  unusual 
vocabulary  as  he  bossed  them.  Lund  turned 
to  the  two  hunters,  who  had  stood  apart. 

"Wai,  you  yellow-bellied  neutrals,"  he  said, 
his  voice  cold  and  his  eyes  hard.  "Thought  I 
might  lose,  and  hoped  so,  didn't  you?  Pick 
up  that  skunk  Beale  an'  tote  him  aboard.  Then 
come  back  an'  go  to  work.  You'll  git  yore 
shares,  but  you'll  not  git  what's  comin'  to 
those  who  stood  by.  Now  git  out  of  my  sight. 
You  can  bury  That  when  you  come  back."  He 
nodded  at  the  sodden  corpse  of  Deming,  flung 
up  on  the  grit.  "You  can  take  yore  pay  as 
grave-diggers  out  of  what  you  owe  him  at 
poker.  He  ain't  goin'  to  collect  this  trip." 

Rainey,  lame  and  sore,  helped  Tamada  patch 
up  the  wounded,  turning  the  hunters'  quarters 
into  a  sick  bay,  using  the  table  for  operation. 


MY  MATE  325 

Beale  was  the  worst  off,  but  Tamada  pro- 
nounced him  not  vitally  damaged.  After  he 
had  finished  with  them  he  insisted  upon 
Rainey's  lying,  face  down,  on  the  table, 
stripped  to  the  waist,  while  he  rubbed  him  with 
oil  and  then  kneaded  him.  Once  he  gave  a 
sudden,  twisting  wrench,  and  Rainey  saw  a 
blur  of  stars  as  something  snapped  into  place 
with  a  click. 

"I  think  you  soon  all  right,  now,"  said 
Tamada. 

"You  and  Miss  Simms  turned  the  tide,"  said 
Rainey.  "If  they'd  got  those  tools  first  they'd 
have  finished  us  in  short  order." 

"Fools !"  said  Tamada.  "Suppose  they  kill 
Lund,  how  they  get  away?  No  one  to  navi- 
gate. Presently  the  gunboat  would  find  them. 
I  think  Mr.  Lund  will  maybe  trust  me  now," 
he  said  quietly. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Mr.  Lund  think  in  the  back  of  his  head  I 
arrange  for  that  gunboat  to  come.  He  can  not 
understand  how  they  know  the  schooner  at 


326          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

island.  He  think  to  come  jus'  this  time  too 
much  curious,  I  think." 

"It  was  a  bit  of  a  coincidence." 

Tamada  shrugged  his  shoulders  slightly. 

"I  think  Japanese  government  know  all  that 
goes  on  in  North  Polar  region,"  he  said. 
"There  is  wireless  station  on  Wrangell  Island. 
We  pass  by  that  pretty  close." 

Rainey  chewed  that  information  as  he  put 
on  his  clothes,  wondering  if  they  had  seen  the 
last  of  the  gunboat.  They  would  have  to  pass 
south  through  Bering  Strait.  It  would  be 
easy  to  overhaul  them,  halt  them,  search  the 
schooner,  confiscate  the  gold.  They  were  not 
out  of  trouble  yet. 

When  he  went  into  the  cabin  to  replace  his 
torn  coat — he  had  hardly  a  button  intact  above 
the  waist,  from  jacket  to  undershirt — he 
found  the  girl  there  with  Lund.  Apparently, 
they  had  just  come  in.  Peggy  Simms,  with 
face  aglow  with  the  excitement  that  had  not 
subsided,  was  proffering  Lund  her  pistol. 

"Keep  it,"  he  said.  "You  may  need  it.  I've 
got  mine." 


MY  MATE  327, 

"But  you  threw  it  into  the  water.  I  saw 
you." 

"No,"  He  laughed.  "That  wasn't  my  gun. 
They  thought  it  was.  I  wanted  to  bring  the 
thing  to  grips.  But  I  wasn't  fool  enough  to 
chuck  away  my  gun.  That  was  a  wrench  I  was 
usin'  this  mornin'  to  fix  the  cabin  stove — looks 
jest  like  an  ottermatic.  I  stuck  it  in  my  inside 
pocket.  I  was  ha'f  a  mind  to  shoot  when  they 
showed  their  knives,  but  I  didn't  want  to  use 
my  gun  on  that  mess  of  hash." 

He  stood  tall  and  broad  above  her,  looking 
down  at  the  face  that  was  raised  to  his. 
Rainey,  unnoticed  as  yet,  saw  her  eyes  bright 
with  admiration. 

"You  are  a  wonderful  fighter,"  she  said 
softly. 

"Wonderful?  What  about  you?  A  man's 
woman!  You  saved  the  day.  Comin'  to  me 
with  them  drills.  An'  we  licked  'em.  We. 
God!" 

He  swept  her  up  into  his  arms,  lifting  her  in 
his  big  hands,  making  no  more  of  her  than 


328          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

if  she  had  been  a  feather  pillow,  up  till  her  face 
was  on  a  level  with  his,  pressing  her  close, 
while  in  swift,  indignant  rage  she  fought  back 
at  him,  striking  futilely  while  he  held  her, 
kissed  her,  and  set  her  down  as  Rainey  sprang 
forward. 

Lund  seemed  utterly  unconscious  of  the 
girl's  revulsion. 

"Comin'  to  me  with  the  drills!"  he  said. 
"We  licked  'em.  You  an'  me  together.  My 
woman !" 

Peggy  Simms  had  leaped  back,  her  eyes 
blazing.  Lund  came  for  her,  his  face  lit  with 
the  desire  of  her,  arms  outspread,  hands  open. 
Before  Rainey  could  fling  himself  between 
them,  the  girl  had  snatched  the  little  pistol  that 
Lund  had  set  on  the  table  and  fired  point-blank. 
She  seemed  to  have  missed,  though  Lund 
halted,  his  mouth  agape,  astounded. 

"You  big  bully!"  said  Rainey.  Now  that 
the  time  had  come  he  found  that  he  was  not 
afraid  of  Lund,  of  his  gun,  of  his  strength. 
"Play  fair,  do  you?  Then  show  it!  You 


MY  MATE  329 

asked  me  once  why  I  didn't  make  love  to  her. 
I  told  you.  But  you,  you  foul-minded  bully! 
All  you  think  of  is  your  big  body,  to  take  what 
it  wants. 

"Peggy.  Will  you  marry  me?  I  can  pro- 
tect you  from  this  hulking  brute.  If  it's  to  be 
a  show-down  between  you  and  me,"  he  flared  at 
Lund,  still  gazing  as  if  stupefied,  "let  it  come 
now.  Peggy  ?" 

The  girl,  tears  on  her  cheeks  that  were  born 
from  the  sobs  of  anger  that  had  shaken  her, 
swung  on  him. 

"You?"  she  said,  and  Rainey  wilted  under 
the  scorn  in  her  voice.  "Marry  you?"  She 
began  to  laugh  hysterically,  trying  to  check 
herself. 

"I  didn't  mean  you  enny  harm,"  said  Lund 
slowly,  addressing  Peggy.  "Why,  I  wouldn't 
harm  you,  gal.  You're  my  woman.  You  come 
to  me.  I  was  jest — jest  sorter  swept  off  my 
bearin's.  Why,"  he  turned  to  Rainey,  his 
voice  down-pitching  to  a  growl  of  angry  con- 
tempt, "you  pen-shovin'  whippersnapper,  I 


330          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

c'ud  break  you  in  ha'f  with  one  hand.  You 
ain't  her  breed.  But" — his  voice  changed 
again — "if  it's  a  show-down,  all  right. 

"If  I  was  to  fight  you,  over  her,  I'd  kill  you. 
D'ye  think  I  don't  respect  a  good  gal?  D'ye 
think  I  don't  know  how  to  love  a  gal  right? 
She's  my  mate.  Not  yours.  But  it's  up  to  you, 
Peggy  Simms.  I  didn't  mean  to  insult  you. 
An'  if  you  want  him — why,  it's  up  to  you  to 
choose  between  the  two  of  us." 

She  went  by  Rainey  as  if  he  had  not  existed, 
straight  into  Lund's  arms,  her  face  radiant,  up- 
turned. 

"It's  you  I  love,  Jim  Lund,"  she  said.  "A 
man.  My  man." 

As  her  arms  went  round  his  neck  she  gave 
a  little  cry. 

"I  wounded  you,"  she  said,  and  the  tender 
concern  of  her  struck  Rainey  to  the  quick. 
"Quick,  let  me  see." 

"Wounded,  hell!"  laughed  Lund.  "D'ye 
think  that  popgun  of  yores  c'ud  stop  me? 
The  pellet's  somewheres  in  my  shoulder.  Let 


MY  MATE  331 

it  bide.  By  God,  yo're  my  woman,  after  all. 
Lund's  Luck!" 

Rainey  went  up  on  deck  with  that  ringing  in 
his  ears.  His  humiliation  wore  off  swiftly  as 
he  crossed  back  toward  the  beach.  By  the  time 
he  crossed  the  promontory  he  even  felt  relieved 
at  the  outcome.  He  was  not  in  love  with  her. 
He  had  known  that  when  he  intervened.  He 
had  not  even  told  her  so.  His  chivalry  had 
spoken — not  his  heart.  And  his  thoughts 
strayed  back  to  California.  The  other  girl, 
Diana  though  she  was,  would  never,  in  almost 
one  breath,  have  shot  and  kissed  the  man  she 
loved.  A  lingering  vision  of  Peggy  Simms' 
beauty  as  she  had  gone  to  Lund  remained  and 
faded. 

"Lund's  right,"  he  told  himself.  "She's  not 
of  my  breed." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
LUND'S  LUCK 

END  glanced  at  the  geyser  of  spray  where 
the  shell  from  the  pursuing  gunboat  had 
fallen  short,  and  then  at  the  bank  of  mist 
ahead.  They  were  in  the  narrows  of  Bering 
Strait,  between  the  Cape  of  Charles  and  Prince 
Edward's  Point,  the  gold  aboard,  a  full  wind 
in  their  sails,  making  eleven  knots  to  the  gun- 
boat's fifteen. 

It  was  mid-afternoon,  three  hours  since  they 
had  seen  smoke  to  the  north  and  astern  of 
them.  Either  the  patrol  had  found  them  gone 
from  the  island,  freed  by  blasting  from  the 
floe,  and  followed  on  the  trail  full  speed,  or  the 
wireless  from  some  Japanese  station  on  the 
Tchukchis  coast  had  told  of  their  homing  flight. 

The  great  curtain  of  fog  was  a  mile  ahead. 
The  last  shell  had  fallen  two  hundred  yards 
332 


LUND'S  LUCK  333 

short.  Five  minutes  more  would  settle  it. 
Hansen  had  the  wheel.  Lund  stood  by  the 
taffrail,  his  arm  about  Peggy  Simms.  He 
shook  a  fist  at  the  gunboat,  vomiting  black 
smoke  from  her  funnel,  foam  about  her  bows. 

"We'll  beat  'em  yet,"  he  cried . 

The  next  shell,  with  more  elevation,  whined 
parallel  with  them,  sped  ahead,  and  smashed 
into  the  waves. 

"Hold  yore  course,  Hansen!  No  time  to 
zigzag.  Got  to  chance  it.  Damn  it,  they  know 
how  to  shoot!" 

A  missile  had  gone  plump  through  main 
and  foresails,  leaving  round  holes  to  mark  the 
score.  Another  fairly  struck  the  main  top- 
mast, and  some  splinters  came  rattling  down, 
while  the  remnants  of  the  top-sail  flapped  amid 
writhing  ends  of  halyard  and  sheet. 

They  entered  the  beginning  of  the  fog,  curl- 
ing wisps  of  it  reached  out,  twining  over  the 
bowsprint  and  headsails,  enveloping  the  fore- 
mast, swallowing  the  schooner  as  a  hurtling 
shell  crashed  into  the  stern.  The  next  instant 


334          A  MAN  TO  HIS  MATE 

the  mist  had  sheltered  them.  Lund  released 
the  girl  and  jumped  to  the  wheel. 

"Now  then,"  he  shouted,  "we'll  fool  'em!" 
He  gripped  the  spokes,  and  the  men  ran  to  the 
sheets  at  command  while  the  Karluk  shot  off 
at  right  angles  to  her  previous  course,  skirt- 
ing the  fog  that  blanketed  the  wind  but  yet 
allowed  sufficient  breeze  to  filter  through  to 
give  them  headway,  gliding  like  a  ghost  on  the 
new  tack  to  the  east. 

Rainey,  tense  from  the  explosion  of  the  shell, 
jumped  below  at  last  and  came  back  exultant. 

"It  was  a  dud,  Lund !"  he  shouted.  "Or  else 
they  didn't  want  to  blow  us  up  on  account  of 
the  gold.  But  they've  wrecked  the  cabin.  The 
fog's  coming  in  through  the  hole  they  made. 
Tamada's  galley's  gone.  It's  raked  the 
schooner!" 

"So  long's  it's  above  the  water  line,  to  hell 
with  it !  We'll  make  out.  Listen  to  the  fools. 
They've  gone  in  after  us,  straight  on." 

The  booming  of  the  gunboat's  forward  bat- 


LUND'S  LUCK  335 

tery  sounded  aft  of  them,  dulled  by  the  fog — 
growing  fainter. 

"Lund's  luck!    We've  dodged 'em!" 

"They'll  be  waiting  for  us  at  the  passes," 
said  Rainey.  "They've  got  the  speed  on  us." 

"Let  'em  wait.  To  blazes  with  the  Aleu- 
tians !  Ready  again  there  for  a  tack !  Sou'- 
east  now.  We'll  work  through  this  till  we  git 
to  the  wind  ag'in.  It's  all  blue  water  to  the 
Seward  Peninsula.  We're  bound  for  Nome." 

"For  Nome?"  asked  Peggy  Simms. 

"Nome,  Peggy!  An  American  port.  The 
nearest  harbor.  An*  the  nearest  preacher !" 


THE  END 


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